


In two minds

by paupotter_4869



Category: The Host - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, life in the caves, previous host, raid misison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-06 19:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paupotter_4869/pseuds/paupotter_4869
Summary: The Host AU, set after Wanda's inserted into Pet's body and normality is known again to our family in the caves. At some point Wanda discovers in quite the painful way the previous host to her body is still roaming around. The Host only wants to leave, whatever the cost; if Wanda lets her, she could be endangering everyone living in the caves...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All credit to Stephenie Meyer. Enjoy and please comment what you think !

“Come on, people, time to go,” I order. 

Standing in the midst of the dining area, impatiently shifting my weight from one foot to the other, by backpack already hanging from my right shoulder, I don’t give a damn some of my family members look up to me with that look they usually dedicate only dedicate to the youngest of our community--that smirk plastered on their faces and a mild, surprised look. I don’t care, as long as Jared and Mel stand from their seats right this minute and forget all about the conversation they were holding with Jeb and Judy that I clearly interjected. But they seem to be enjoying this picture a bit too much--I’m way too eager for this. 

“Will you two please get up?” I demand exasperated as no-one seems to heed my words as an actual order. 

“You know there’s no rush,” says Jared slowly, crossing his arms over the table. 

“Stores will be open for a few hours still,” adds Mel, resting peacefully against her boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“As in, half a day, at least,” mocks Kyle. Usually, even with his emotional maturity in the past weeks, every remark that escapes that one O’Shea brother gets me rolling my eyes and this time, isn’t an exception to the rule. 

“Nor the products won’t disappear or change depending on how soon you fetch them,” says Heather from the adjacent table, who still hasn’t learnt to mind her own businesses--I haven’t seen her going out on any raids recently. 

“Plus, you’re sleeping at a motel either way, you can stay here until dark, if you want to,” confirms Jeb. 

“But I don’t want to. We’ve been sitting on our hands more than half an hour now,” I scowl, motioning for the exit corridor with a nod of my head, “we might as well leave and profit of that spare time.” 

Accompanying my latest words, I grab a hold of Jared’s and Mel’s backpacks, empty at that moment, reason why I’m able to throw them at their table’s feet with my very low strength. Mel and Jared stare at the backpacks on the floor, then look up to me, amusement clear in their eyes, then exchange one long look with their table peers, all of them have that same smirk on their lips. As if I couldn’t notice they’re just stalling, making me more anxious. 

“Come on, you two. Up--I want those bags filled in two minutes.” 

Hands on my waist, my foot unconsciously tapping against the floor, I stand my ground firmly. If Mel and Jared do raise from their seats, however, it’s only because the hilarity of the situation, I sadly know that already. 

“Ian?” asks Jared above his shoulder as he grabs a couple water bottles, handing one Mel, while she rummages the cupboards to find snacks. 

“He’s fetching Brandt, who, BTW, was able to prepare his backpack in time without a nanny,” I report, hoping they grasp the venom in my voice. 

As I wait until Jared and Mel prepare their handbags for the raid, some of the conversations slowly raise all around the kitchen, oblivious to my more than uncanny gloomy--best way to put it--mood hovering over them. Jeb comes to sit closer to me in an attempt to make me relax with his usual easy-going chatter. But I’m not anxious. Well, not the worried-anxious type, more the thrilled-anxious one. Right now I’m counting the seconds till I’m finally able to leave the caves. 

Ian comes with Brandt when Mel and Jared aren’t even finished with their bags. Ian’s presence relaxes me one bit, as he allows me to rest against his chest, even when it’s only a trick to take the bag from my shoulders and carry it himself. I don’t argue it this time, knowing it’s futile; the bag is almost as good as weightless to Ian, and I’ve got terrible backaches in the past carrying the bag. 

But I jump to my two feet the moment Jared and Mel announce they’re ready, carrying in their backpacks water, food, compasses, rope, a change of clothes, sunglasses, a couple of unnecessary knives, the wallets with their fake IDs and driver licenses, flashlights, and a first-aid kid, just in case. Even when the probability of needing the weapons or the first-aid kid are minimal, we always take them with us--we never know what we might face out there. 

“Alright, let’s go,” I order. 

It is not, however, time to leave just yet. Now that I don’t want any other delays, everyone in the dining room start standing and approach our small five-people group, as if we hadn’t already said goodbye earlier in the morning. 

“Will you be alright just the five of you?” asks Judy, caressing Ian’s arm. 

“Yes, we will,” I promise, just a little bit tired of saying the same over and over. 

“It still feels like one too few,” confesses Jeb in a deep sigh. 

My heart in a fist, I look up at him in dismay. We all also know why we can’t take any more people in the raids, even if they’re way less risky than they used to be. If something went wrong, it’s four people we’d be surrendering to the Seekers, four people that could lead them to our family. That’s why we still carry those pills and always got them at hand, even, or most specially, when we stay the night out. Our family can do with five less people; but the Seekers would never catch us alive. Those are the stakes in every raid. 

“Don’t worry,” promises Mel, caressing her uncle’s shoulder. “We’ll be back in less than forty-eight hours.” 

“Thanks for keeping Jamie at school,” I appreciate Jeb while I shake his hand. More than once the kid’s ditched his classes so he could bid us farewell, making our leaving harder than it should be; that’s why Sharon’s keeping a close eye on him today, whether he likes it or not. 

“Of course,” says the old man, a warm smile on his lips. 

By my side, Ian’s hugging Kyle, keeping a tight hold to Sunny with his free hand, Aaron’s exchanging a few last words with Judy, Mel and Jared are discussing something I can’t hear with Lily. That’s all the time we’ve got as conversations drift away and we step backwards, a bit reluctantly. 

“Good luck.” The final goodbye chorus is unanimous and sullen, the ‘what if’s hovering our minds and darkest nightmares. 

We don’t let such happy thoughts invade us, though; we’ve got a pretty hard job ahead of us that needs our undivided attention. But on my case, stepping into the exit corridor is liberating. Every step I take improves my mood, till a point where I’m practically bouncing from one foot to another after ten minutes of walking in almost darkness, knowing the caves too well to need flashlights. 

Ian catches up with me and rests a hand over my shoulders, in a gesture that I recognize, it’s aimed to calm me down. But I can’t help myself; I feel useless in the caves most part of the day. My only real contribution today to this family are these raids, that don’t take place as much as I’d like, nor come as soon as I’d wish. He cannot tell me, even though he’s tried, not to feel footloose when I actually get a chance to do my bit. 

I reach for Ian’s hand when all of a sudden I don’t know what comes over me and my hand slips, with a move and strength aimed at hurting the target, Ian on this instance, something I’d never consciously do. 

“ _OUCH!_ ” yells Ian, stepping away from me in bewilderment, sending one hand up to cover his forearm, while Jared, Mel and Aaron freeze on their spot upon the sudden shriek. 

My sudden move and his shriek are two questions I don’t get an answer for. A searing pain runs through my own body and a yell I don’t recognize escapes my mouth. I fall to the ground on my knees, hands intertwined over my chest, noticing my extremely irregular heartbeat, my head pounding and almost literally, splitting in half. 

Forgetting all about his injured arm, Ian drops to the ground by my side, one hand to my shoulder, while Mel, Jared and Aaron surround me too, concern plastered in their faces and tainting their voices. 

“Wanda?” 

“You OK?” 

“What’s going on?” 

That’s a marvelous question I wish I could answer. For the time being, only one thought flows in what’s, for the time being, still _my_ mind. 

“Restrain me,” I manage to whisper, somehow. 

“What?!” they shriek scandalized. That’s not something they’d ever do to me. 

“Restrain...Me,” I repeat through clenched teeth. 

“NO!! Let me go!!” yells my own voice, with my same vocal cords, but not because I wanted such words to leave my mouth. And obviously, such contradiction also baffles each and everyone of them. 

“I--Don’t underst--” stutters Ian. 

“Don’t let me go!” I shriek in panic. “Keep me here!!” 

My whole body’s shaking, torn apart between two opposite orders coming from two minds, with different thoughts and targets. We have the same strength and hence, no-one’s winning the fight against each myself; luckily my body’s stuck on he spot, not moving on its own and leaving the caves. But I don’t know for how long I’ll be able to keep fighting myself. It’s almost impossible already. 

“Please, get some ropes!!” I beg. 

“You can’t tie me up like an animal!” shrieks the other me, despair winning over my willpower. And as she’s speaking sense, no-one dares to move as she keeps on shouting. “Let me go!! I want to leave!!” 

“Don’t! Don’t... Let her... Go!!” I reply. 

“I demand you... To leave...” says my voice, struggling to talk as much as I am. “Lead me to the exit...” 

“Don’t!!” I forbid them. “Don’t do that! I’m not risking my family!!” 

Jared, Ian, Mel and Brandt all surround me with astonished and apologetic faces, without understanding a word I’m saying. Everytime I speak I contradict my latest words--or she does--and I can’t think of a way of letting them know what commands to follow. If this goes on for far too long, I’ll end up losing consciousness and she’ll be in full control of this body. I can’t let that happen. I’m not risking my family this way. I have to make them see, I have to show them I’m not the only one who’s speaking through my voice. 

It’s a nice idea, but my head throbs unbearably already, being torn apart and due to all the yelling. I have to solve this quickly. 

I look up to Ian, who’s knelt by my side, his hands on the air, his face split in horror, sharing my own suffering, trying to offer me some help without knowing what to do. I raise one hand, grabbing his arm till it must hurt. 

“Ian, please, I’m asking you to restrain me. Tie me up. Go find Doc and have him sedate me. Anything. I beg of you! NOW!” 

He looks tortured beyond confusion, his hands hanging in the air without knowing what to do, tortured. 

“Wanda, you know I never could...” 

“And I don’t want you to, you know how much it’d hurt me if you did something like that to me,” says the other me, hitting a very delicate nerve. Such an argument obviously discourages Ian a bit more and I see he’ll be no help. 

This is horrible in every possible way imaginable. Even if I try to call them by their names and coax them all to do as I say, exploit them emotionally as I know I can, I grant her more access to information about me and all of them and she uses it as well, playing the hurtful and sentimental card too. I can’t let this go on. 

“Jared, please, stop me!” I shout the command at him, knowing he’ll be practical when he sees truth. “You have to!!” 

“Whenever have I been a threat to any of you?!” replies the other me. 

The two of us yell a bit more by the second, desperate to be heard over the other and to be agreed with, to achieve the same goal--not to vanish. In the meantime, all four of my family members stand around me in confusion and, quite honestly, in panic. Not knowing what to do when I’m acting crazy is making them go nuts. 

All of a sudden, in one of my last coherent thoughts, I realize yelling won’t help me convince them when I, Wanda, am speaking the truth. It’s not in my nature to yell or behave like this. I inhale deeply, force myself to focus a few more moments and gain control over my brain and mouth. 

“Mel, listen to me,” I say quietly, in a whisper, hoping she sees through the other me. “You need to stop me. It’s the only thing I can think of right now to protect you all. Please, do it. Now.” 

And with that, my strength’s gone; the other me takes over, shouting and yelling and trying to contradict my words. But my serious, peaceful words do the trick, and though they don’t understand a thing, they comply, knowing I, Wanda, can’t lie to save my life. 

Jared’s the first to act, as I predicted. 

“Brandt, go get Doc. Don’t walk; run. But don’t frighten anybody. And tell him to bring the chloroform.” 

Yes, I bless his words in a last whisper, while Brandt starts running away from the scene. Regardless of how sick that medicine makes me, that’s the best option there is, at least for now. Mel kneels on one side of me, grabbing my hand, both to steady me and, I hope, to hold me down.

“Jared,” I whisper, feeling my strength leaving me and her taking over my body, raising a hand with a speed and strength aimed at punching him in the face. 

He dodges the blow and grabs me by the wrist. With my both hands restrained she chooses to start kicking everywhere. Jared and Mel change positions around me, so he can grab both my wrists against my body and Mel holds both my legs by the ankles, forcing me down with great effort, making me stretch my arms and legs, as comfortable as it gets. There’s no way the other me can fight the two of them together, not with me trying to oppose her as well.

“Jared, what the hell--?” stutters Ian, the only one who’s been incapable to follow my orders and hold me down--he’d never dream to do something like that to me. 

“I don’t know,” replies the other boy, sharp. I know he’s as conflicted as Ian himself about what he’s doing to me, each of his actions hurting him emotionally, but he’s a smart man, not as driven by his emotions as Ian. “Let’s just listen to Wanda. She’s always right, isn’t she?” 

Ian needs a few long seconds to let the words sink in. With a deep sigh, he then kneels to the ground too, caressing my cheek, as if asking me permission. I can only nod and smile briefly as a sequence of insults escape my mouth and my body fights against me and against all the hands holding me down, which tense a bit more against my wrists and ankles--I see sweat pouring from Jared’s forehead, though this is not such a disproportionate exercise. Ian then holds my head affectionately over his lap, trying to soothe me when I’m struggling with so many people, against a cold ground of rocks that hurt my back, arms and legs the more I try to get free. 

“This is completely unnecessary,” I hear him whisper in rage, looking over at Jared and Melanie. 

I’d like to take part in the conversation about me, but as it turns out, when I try to speak my mouth just yells an incoherent list of words that a Soul should never know nor be able to utter without feeling painfully ashamed, so I force myself to keep as steady as I can and my mouth shut. I manage the second task, the first, not so much; she keeps fidgeting, even when she has to see it’s a lost battle. The only thing that helps me is focusing on something else altogether, their conversation my only option for the time being, their low words almost comforting me. 

“No, the unnecessary thing would be to tie her up,” replies Mel. “But we have to hold her down somehow--she’s asked us to.” 

“And the same Wanda’s begged us not to restrain her like an animal,” reminds Ian, his voice breaking at the end. 

“Better be safe than sorry,” says Jared in a scowl, not liking this situation any more than Ian. “She did say it was to protect our family.” 

Shaking his head, still not understanding a thing and not knowing what to believe or trust anymore, Ian starts caressing one side of my head, even if none of the words she addresses to him are close to show any kind of affection to the man, much less the love I intrinsically feel towards him. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Ian scowls once more. “She couldn’t really fight the two of you together. Not physically or emotionally.”

“Well, that’s not really Wanda in there,” scowls Jared, panting due to the effort of restraining me. 

“She hasn’t lost her mind,” replies Ian instantly. “And even if she did, this is not--” 

“You two, shut up,” snaps Melanie and I notice the tears in her eyes, that gets my own eyes teary at the same time. “It’s not just all of us at stake here, I think it’s her own life--existence--too. Don’t let her bite her tongue or do anything stupid.” 

That’s a marvelous suggestion that I don’t think had crossed my other counterpart’s mind till the moment Mel’s remarked on it. I hope she doesn’t get any ideas, but just in case, I look up at Ian, noticing the tears in both our eyes. He nods after a couple seconds and his warm hands leave my cheeks as he rummages his backpack to get a handkerchief. He holds it out in the air, asking my permission beforehand--one that I cannot give him. The insults leaving my mouth convince him further, plus the groans from Mel and Jared ordering him to, and he slowly lowers his shaky hand, placing the handkerchief deep in my mouth till my horrible yells are only unintelligible muffles. 

“I’m sorry, Wanda,” whimpers Ian, leaning to rest his forehead against mine. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Through the gag, I’m both cursing the whole O’Shea family and sobbing with him and his pleas. I can only pray Brandt and Doc won’t take much longer--I will end up losing my mind. And my closest family won’t be able to hold me down forever. 

For once, my prayers are listened. 

“Someone’s coming,” says suddenly Mel. 

Everyone sighs in relief and listens carefully at the same time; and all of us can corroborate her statement. At least three people are running towards our spot, a fact that only gets me--she--fighting harder against us, forcing Jared and Mel to focus back on their task at hands. 

“Calm down,” begs Jared in a growl. “Help’s here.” 

That’s not what she wants, I’d like to explain, but there’s no way I can. By now, a beam of light falls over the bizarre scene taking place in the middle of the corridor and the three people stop in their tracks, bewildered. Up until now I’ve shown no reason as why people should hold me down forcefully; and that those people should be Ian, Mel and Jared of all our community is the strangest of it all. 

“Come on, Doc, don’t stall!” begs Mel. 

The yell snaps the man out of it--I hear their footsteps and next second, Doc, Brandt and also Jeb kneel by my side, confusion written in their faces. 

“What in the world?!” demands Doc taking a long look into my eyes, before looking at Ian, Jared and Mel in turn, as they don’t let go of me. 

“Care to fill us in?” Jeb presses. 

“Wish we had any answers!” scowls Mel, not releasing my ankles just yet. 

“It seemed she was in pain and then she just started talking nonsense,” explains Jared, his voice strained. “Started contradicting everything she said.” 

“We have to help her, Doc. Please,” whimpers Ian. 

“And we will, Ian--we’ll find a solution.” 

Doc’s hopeful words are the last thing I hear, apart from a mild puncture on my neck, which I barely notice after all the struggle and suffering I’m in. The effects are almost immediate: I start relaxing at once, although the painful pressure on my wrists and ankles doesn't disappear and won't do so until I'm out for good. Which thankfully, happens within five seconds. Before I can say a single word, it's all over. 


	2. Chapter 2

I can tell the dose Doc used on me wasn’t enough to take me out for more than a few minutes, and still the time I’ve been out cold has been truly liberating; my mind is somewhat at ease when I first come into my senses and start stirring from unconsciousness. 

At once I notice I’m restrained from wrists and ankles, something inside my mouth preventing me from speaking--or biting my tongue, more accurately. Such a situation gets me shivering all over; this is what I feared I’d face when I was first a prisoner here in the caves. Restraints and torture. Now I know no harm will come to me from my human family, physical or emotional, but still I’m not at ease. And noticing a second set inside of my mind only brings back the painful memories of those not quite happy first days. Hard to remember this, being restrained, is what I wanted in the first place for the sake of my family. 

Should have realized that as soon as I’d come into, my other half would be up and down too--and next second I’m wishing to pass out again. 

“ _LET ME GO!_ ” she shrieks, but with the gag in my mouth, only a muffled sentence comes out. And so she chooses for fighting against the restraints, knowing as well as I do that it’s useless. She couldn’t overcome Jared and Mel, certainly they’re using now more efficient restraints. 

The muffled sentence and her struggles are enough, however, for my family to notice we’re awake and gather around whatever place they’ve put me in. Mel, Ian, Jared, Doc, Jeb, Brandt, come all at once into my visual field, all of them looking horror-struck and concerned, if nothing else. I see their mouths moving, some hands caressing my hair or my cheeks, but I cannot figure out their words when I’m having such a heated conversation with my other counterpart. 

_:-I said, let me go!!-:_ she orders, her shriek echoing painfully in my mind. 

:-Promise, I wish I could.-:

_:-Well, then do it!!-:_

:-Hear me out. I can’t do that.-: 

Attempting to handle both situations--the conversation inside of my head and the one I can’t figure the words to outside of it--it’s way too much for me and if I could control my voice and my thoughts, I’d be begging for Doc to sedate me again. The thought actually crosses my mind, but I can’t fight the gag in my mouth any more than she can. 

_:-I--haven’t lost! I’m not losing again to one of your--lot!!-:_

:-You haven’t. You’re strong, incredibly so. I mean no harm to you.-:

_:-Then why can’t you just let me go?!-:_

In the end I choose to just close my eyes to tune out everything and everyone else in order to focus on the conversation inside of my mind, figuring if I can make sense of this one, the other one will be a piece of cake. I sense, more than anything, the distress coming from my human family, but I can’t worry about them right now--my mind is quite literally, split in half. I just cannot divide my attention to any more issues. 

:-Please, stop talking for a second.-:

_:-Actually I wish I could do you so much more than just talking to you!-:_

:-Stop yelling! I can’t think.-: 

_:-And giving you time to figure out a way to kick me out of here permanently?-:_

:-If you’d let me talk, you’d understand I’d never do something like that.-: 

_:-I’m sorry, it’s hard to believe you when your filthy species has erased me from existence twice now.-:_

:-We thought you weren’t going to wake up. We meant to save you. I wouldn’t have taken your body had I known you were still there. We really thought you weren’t going to make it.-:

_:-Well, you thought wrong,-:_ she scowls. _:-How’d you manage to deceit humans that much for all those people to follow your lead?-:_ she keeps talking, more to herself than expecting an answer from me. _:-I thought your lot couldn’t lie. God, I thought humans were at least smarter than your horrible menace--yet here we are.-:_

:-Please. I’m losing my mind here.-: 

_:-It’s not your mind to lose. And I want it back.-:_

:-I’m begging you. Both of us could vanish if you keep this up. We might not be strong enough.-:

_:-Speak for yourself.-:_

:-Look, I’m serious here--we’re sharing a sole brain and our state of mind isn’t stable, to say the least. If either of us succumbs, I cannot tell what might happen to the other one.-:

_:-As if I give a damn. I’d rather be dead than having another one of your disgusting centipedes inside of me!-:_

:-You’ll think differently with a little bit of time.-: 

_:-Doubt that.-:_

:-Well, you better start changing your mind now, because I’m not going to let anybody die today.-:

_:-Then let me go and spare my life!-:_

:-See, that’s one of the ways my whole family could end up dead and if all possible, I’d like to avoid that. So I’m afraid that’s not a possibility for you.-:

_:-My only choice is to have someone else inside my head, then? Oh, the prospects just keep getting better and better. Please, kill me now.-:_

:-No! That’s not what I meant. Look, I’ll try to come up with the best solution for the both of us, OK? I promise.-:

_:-How can I trust anything you say or do from now on?-:_

:-Same way you’re doing right now. I could make you disappear and have this headache cured and yet, here you are. Trust me when I tell you I don’t want you killed and that I’m going to do everything within my power to help you. But I can’t do anything if you don’t let me.-: 

I can tell her disposition has changed. I notice it in my mind, in the less violent struggles against the restraints on my wrists and ankles. She wants to believe me, so, so bad--but at the same time, she knows she can’t. I understand her only too well. I was at the other end of that same crossroad and I know how terrifying it is trying to trust your enemies. I force that feeling out to let her know I want to help her and that I’m willing to do so. And maybe because she’s got no other choice but, she trusts me, for now. She’s got no option, really. 

I notice the moment she accepts defeat. Her conscience takes a deep sigh before she speaks again. 

_:-What can I do?-:_ she asks, terrified. 

:-Please stop fighting.-: 

At once her struggles desist and my ankles, wrists and even chest ache in response to her fighting. It’s such a radical change that I can sense the surprise of my family member surrounding me--and I can finally take a deep breath too. But for now, I’m not going to let them untie me. That’s going to take a little while longer. 

:-Much better. Now, Pet was it? Petals?-: 

_:-Yeah. Wait, no--that’s not my name.-:_

:-That’s OK. Things can be a little confusing. Please try not to panic, we’ve got time to figure it all out. I’m Wanderer, though my friends call me Wanda. Can you remember your name?-:

_:-Not sure. I’ve had many names but none seems familiar.-:_

:-I’ll call you Pet for the time being, if you don’t mind--better than no name at all. But don’t worry, your real name will come back soon enough.-:

_:-When?! How can you know? How can you expect me to believe you or even trust you when you’re actually trying to kick me out of my own mind?!-:_

:-Look, you need to calm down. You freaking out isn’t helping either one of us.-: 

_:-I’m just trying not to vanish!-:_

:-That won’t happen, I promise for the millionth time. You’re stuck here.-: 

_:-With you.-:_ The venom I gather from her voice is something I haven’t heard since Mel was the one inside of my head--brings back memories of an era I’m glad I could evolve from and how she used to hate me as much as she does. 

_:-What was that?-:_ she asks surprised. 

:-What’d you mean?-: 

_:-That wave, that feeling. It wasn’t yours. That anger and hatred...It’s similar to what I’m feeling now, but they’re not mine.-:_

:-You can access my thoughts and memories?-: I demand wearily. She’s catching up fast, faster than I’m comfortable with. 

_:-I don’t know. Is that what I did? -:_

:-I was just thinking how my previous Host used to hate me as much as you do...-:

_:-Can’t imagine why.-:_ I try not to flinch upon that remark. 

:-And you just picked up on that,-: I resume as if she hadn’t said anything. :-Okay then, if you can do that, let me hear--I want to know what’s happening.-: 

_:-How do you suggest I do that?-:_

:-You figure it out; you’ve got access to my thoughts and memories, give me back my body can’t be that difficult.-: 

_:-It’s my body.-:_

:-I need to know what my family’s saying, so I know where we stand and what needs to be done.-:

_:-Including, I hope, giving me back my body.-:_

:-Okay, Pet...-:

_:-That’s not my name!-:_

:-Well, tell me how to call you, then.-:

She hadn’t thought I’d give in so easily--my remark freezes her and leaves her without a snappy answer to deliver back to me. 

_:-I’ll think about it. Just not Pet. It makes me feel like a dog or a cat.-:_

:-I’ll keep that in mind. However, I know what priorities are, you don’t need to remind me every second you’re awake, because it’s getting repetitious and, honestly, I’m quite fed up with you already.-: 

_:-My, aren’t we nice. I thought your lot was only able to be peaceful and cheerful all day long?-:_

:-Hard to keep up a docile façade when you’ve got a terrible headache and a voice inside your head that just won’t shut up.-: 

_:-Try to imagine having someone in your mind that doesn’t belong there controlling your every move and thought. I really can’t put my finger on what’s worse.-:_

:-I’m not in control of this body. I’d like to, if you let me. Lend me your ears.-: 

_:-I know that line.-:_

:-Excuse me?-: The sudden change of subject makes me forget about what I was trying to achieve; it's hard to keep up with this woman.

_:-A poem...Or a song. I remember that sentence from somewhere.-:_

:-That’s a good sign. Maybe my friends can tell you about it later. For now, can you try to let me hear? I’d like to know what they’re saying.-:

_:-How?-:_

:-Scoot around, try to free my senses.-:

_:-I’m not sure...-:_

I sigh in exasperation. 

:-Just try. But don’t go away, you understand?-: 

_:-So you want me to leave but not to leave for good. You do realize those are quite contradictory instructions?-:_

:-Just go to the back of my mind. I’ll realize immediately if something’s off. But I need control over my senses and body, please. I need to be the driver for now.-: 

Very slowly, she lets go, reluctantly. I stay with her, keeping my eyes and mouth shut for the time being, making sure she doesn’t make a wrong move and vanishes. But just like what used to happen with Mel, I sense her presence somewhere in the back of my head, stable, not going anywhere. How I wish this wasn’t happening all over again. 

:-There. Well done. You good?-: I make sure before I leave her momentarily. Wouldn’t want her to vanish all of a sudden while I focus on my family’s conversation--I could never forgive myself if that happened. 

_:-Think so. This is not a rouse to make me disappear, is it?-:_

:-I promise you, it isn’t. Now let me hear. We’ll solve this sooner than you think.-:


	3. Chapter 3

Ever so slowly, as if waking from deep sleep, I start comprehending again the voices I was tuning out earlier. I gather my family’s no longer surrounding me; their voices sound far away and they speak in whispers, making it all harder for me to understand what they’re saying. The concern, however, is painfully plastered in every word. 

“Has she lost her mind?” Is the first idiotic question I hear, that actually gets me regretting the moment I decided for a part in the conversation. “Is she dangerous?” 

“Don’t be stupid,” scowls Jeb, his voice hoarser and sharper than those of Ian, Jared and Mel who groan at the same time. “It’s Wanda--she’s not a danger to us.” 

“Exactly. Wanda’s still herself,” Mel defends me, a bit rudely, as I expected. Ian backs her up immediately, his tone sharp and outraged as well; they wouldn’t let anyone speak badly of me, specially behind my back. 

“Don’t know what happened, but Wanda was the one to ask us to restrain her--for all our sakes. Wanda’s still in there. We have to take that into account if we aim to save her.” 

“But she’s not in control of her actions,” replies Jared, sullen. Trying to impose reason at a great personal cost, I gather, “or her words, or even her thoughts. That was her voice back there, but not her ideas.” 

“Sounds familiar,” scowls Mel under her breath. I knew she’d pick up sooner than anyone else. We were in the same exact situation not too long ago. 

“That’s what happened when she was inside of your head, wasn’t it?” Ian reckons. 

“Yeah--every one of her actions and movements, she did it through my senses and using my body,” confirms Mel. 

“But this was the opposite,” replies Aaron, “she wasn’t the one in control.” 

“Mel could break out now and then and be in charge, for a little while,” explains Jared, possibly remembering the numerous times I hurt him through Mel’s body, which sends an untimely smile on my lips. I know that for some sick, twisted reason, Jared still remembers each experience fondly too, and a crooked smile might be on his lips too, “especially when Wanda was off guard, or--” 

“Overwhelmed,” Ian supplies the word Jared was struggling with. 

“And going on a raid was what made Wanda go all deranged?” 

I hope it’s only the aftermaths of being inside a body so driven by a human’s negative emotions, but I tense and instinctively fight my restraints upon Brandt’s less than polite choice of words. Luckily, he’s told off immediately by more than four or five different people. 

“Anyhow, whatever the trigger was, I think we should focus on figuring out what was triggered exactly,” resumes Jeb, speaking for the first time, his voice a concerned whisper, “because if we don’t, we won’t be able to help Wanda at all.” 

Everyone falls silent after these words and I frown, uneasy. The answer’s got to be obvious to at least Ian, Mel and Jared, and I think the rest of them are clever enough to have figured it out by now. Cards should already be on the table. Someone, say it, I order through the gag in my mouth. 

“Okay, let’s be honest here, I think we all know,” scoffs Mel, as if she’d heard me. And that prompts the words I--we--expected to hear. 

“The Host’s woken up,” whispers Doc. 

Finally, I scowl. Wasn’t so hard, now, was it? 

“It’d appear so,” sighs Jeb. 

“But how?” demands Doc in a defeated whisper. “We thought she wasn’t going to wake up, that by inserting Wanda inside of her, we were saving her life, not--” 

_:-Not making me suffer ninth circle of Hell,-:_ she scowls in the back of my head. 

:-Quiet,-: I beg her. 

_:-Sorry,-:_ she apologizes immediately, retreating. 

:-But can you believe me now? When I said I meant no harm to you? We were really trying to save you.-: 

_:-I guess so,-:_ she reckons slowly, hurting her to concede. 

We’re dragged to the conversation outside of our head when we here the question we’ve been expecting--and fearing. 

“So...What are we going to do about it?” 

I tense and somewhere inside my head, she stirs too, frightened. I try to reason with her: they wouldn’t do anything that’d harm any of us. And they’re not stupid enough to try anything reckless in an attempt to save us both. 

“Guess I could extract Wanda,” suggests Doc. I notice his voice is a little bit more hopeful and content now that there’s something he can actually do about the situation at hand. “That’d give the Host a little peace of mind.” 

_:-I’m all for that idea,-:_ she lets me in the not so secret secret. 

:-I know, but it’s not possible,-: My attempt at explaining the situation is cut off by her yells and rage, aggravating the headache I thought was getting better. Luckily, I don’t have to force the words out, Ian does all the talking. 

“First, we don’t have any cryotanks with us, we’d be killing off Wanda. Second--allowing the Host full access to her mind and body? After what we saw earlier? I don’t think it’s a good idea. If Wanda didn’t want us to let that happen is because we cannot trust the Host.” 

“But we cannot allow them to share one brain for much longer,” complains Mel, the one I assumed would be defending Pet most of anyone else in the family. “You don’t know what it’s like, two people where there should be only one. It can tear both of them apart if the connection isn’t stable--and it’s fair to assume it is not, judging by what we saw back there. Keeping the two of them inside the same mind it’s inhuman, even for us.” 

Her voice is so quiet and filled with pain, obviously talking from the horrible experience of sharing his brain with me, even when we came to terms with it, that I just know Jared’s stepped forward to hug her, caress her hair. I’d have done the same, if I could. Because I agree with each and every one of her words. And it’s time I get the chance to speak. 

Slowly, I try to raise my arm. My hand doesn’t get more than four inches away from the horizontal place I’m laying on before the restraints put a stop to my movements. I keep my arm at that height and I move it around in circles, fighting the restraint. As I’d hoped, my family members notice within seconds and I hear all of them surrounding once more. 

“Wanda?” is one of the unanimous questions asked. 

I open my hand and then lay motionless. Compared to the other time I woke up, less than half an hour ago, when I--she--struggled with all her might against the restraints, they’ve got to know it’s me and not the other one this time around. 

“Yeah, it’s her,” says Ian, completely certain of who I am, as usual, the one person who knows me better than myself. He grabs my hand and I focus on that touch and his words. After a couple seconds, his is the only voice I hear--the only one I want to hear. “Honey? Can you hear us? Can you open your eyes for me?” 

Because _he_ asked me to, I do so at once. Since now my senses are free and I’m more in control of this body, to my own sensations, I relax upon seeing my small family surrounding me, supporting me--specially when my eyes fall down to Ian, who smiles fondly at me and just with that I know I can withstand everything that comes my way. 

“Hello, my soul,” he greets, squeezing my hand. 

It’s quite difficult to smile or greet back with a gag inside of my mouth, so I look down with my eyes, hoping they’ll get the hint eventually, if they actually want to talk with me. And they do--some of the faces before me drop that instant, except for Ian’s and Jeb’s. But the worse that could happen is that I start yelling, insulting or cursing, or trying to bite my tongue. They can live with the first and stop me should I try to attempt suicide. 

So in the end, Ian leans in carefully to take the gag--a folded handkerchief, now dripping with my saliva--out of my mouth. They all tense and await anxiously as I breathe in deeply and stretch my jar, that’s been forcefully wide-open for far too long. But none of the considered scenarios happen and after ten long seconds, we all relax for real. 

“It’s me,” I promise slowly, looking at them all in turn, because they needed to hear the words. “With an addendum.” 

_:-Let me remind you, this is my body. I want it back.-:_

:-I know and we’ll keep that in mind. And let me remind you, I can’t have two conversations at once.-: 

_:-Sorry. Keep going. You’re doing great.-:_

“So the host is awake,” Doc sums up. 

_:-Damn right, I am.-:_

:-Please, I beg of you.-: 

_:-Shutting up.-:_

“Yes, she is,” I confirm sullenly. 

I try to send one hand up to caress my forehead and alleviate the headache, but then I remember the restraints forcing me down. Before I pout, Doc understands my needs so he leaves hurriedly. I hear water running for some seconds before Doc comes back with a bowl and a cloth soaked in fresh water, resting it against my forehead. The effect is immediate; I thank him with a nod of my head, still weary to open my mouth. 

“How--how is that possible?” asks Doc after a couple seconds. “We thought she was gone. We only put you inside of her because she was dying. We saved her.” 

“I’m not sure,” I sigh deeply. “Maybe you should have waited longer before inserting me inside of her. Maybe there _was_ something that triggered her to wake up, a jolt, a fright, a wave of anger. All I know is--she’s here with me right now and all she wants is to get out of these caves. Preferably after she kicks me out of her mind.” 

Too tired to mellow my words, I see everyone flinching upon those words, though Ian immediately tries to mend for it, squeezing my hand tenderly, leaning in to whisper into my ear: 

“We won’t let that happen,” he promises, more the statement of a fact. I notice the same disposition that he showed when he vowed he’d never let me leave the Earth. However sharp, I appreciate his certainty and ferocity and a smile comes to my lips. 

“Agreed,” I chuckle nervously, a humorless laugh that doesn’t extend to anyone else in the small group around the bed. 

_:-Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?-:_

:-You’ll have your body. In due time.-: 

_:-This is not what you told me! You said you’d give me back my body!-:_

:-And you will. I’m not backing on my word. But I can’t exactly do anything while I’m restrained, so it falls down to my family, and we cannot come up with a plan if you don’t let me talk to them.-: 

She vanishes at once--not bothering to apologize this time. 

“How’s she?” I demand. 

A question that gets them all confused, eyebrows frowned. 

“The host, the body. How badly injured--” 

“Nothing to worry about,” replies Doc warmly, resting a hand on my shoulder. “A few scratches and bruises, nothing that can’t be healed within seconds with your medicines.” 

_:-Appreciate the concern,-:_ says Pet inside my mind; though I still don’t know her enough to know if she was actually being petty regarding my concern about her. 

I nod a couple of times, blessing that information. When Jared, Mel and Ian pinioned me on the ground, she could have hurt herself badly for fighting two adult men and one adult woman. Then I slowly look down on Ian, who’s already shaking his head even before I say a word, disbelieving I should be concerned about him. 

“Don’t you dare asking--” 

“How’re you?” I ask either way. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” he promises in a scowl. 

“But...It was bleeding,” I complain, the flashbacks of those crazy and nerve-racking moments coming back at me now. “The injury was deep.” 

“Not that much,” he says. 

Knowing it was just a white lie, I look back at Doc, who gives in with a sigh--this part of the conversation will be over the sooner they give me a straight answer. Doc reaches for one of Ian’s arm, whose forearm is covered in bandages. 

I gasp and try to stand and take a good look, when I notice another set of restraints--a rope around my chest preventing me from moving my upper body. As painful as it is for me, I can see no-one likes this idea so I lay back down, getting as comfortable as it gets, without breaking eye contact with Ian. I caused that. 

“Don’t worry. It looks worse than it is,” promises the man. 

“He can take it--his brother’s certainly hit him stronger than that when they were kids,” says Mel, dismissing Ian’s injury--but not understanding that I won’t ever be able to look at Ian the same way because I was the one who hurt him. 

“And even when we weren’t that young anymore,” chuckles Ian. 

“You’re the only one that concerns us right now,” adds Jeb, focusing us all with the task at hand through a single, simple sentence. “Guessing you heard part of our earlier conversation?” 

“Yes, I did,” I nod. 

“Good. Then we don’t have to repeat our arguments,” says the old man, content that we don’t have to waste any more time. “An extraction’s off the table for the time being. That leaves us with two options: getting a new body or leaving you inside of this host’s mind. That’s what we were discussing--” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence and looks around, knowing arguments will start coming and going imminently. So, before they do, I raise my voice: 

“You’re going to leave me in, simple as that,” I say, but my tone is close to a command. 

That statement freezes everyone around me when they were bound to leave me out of the argument, the words they were about to utter all but forgotten as they look down on me in varying looks of horror and surprise very similar to the yells Pet’s addressing me. 

“Wanda--” 

“Just for the time being. But my word’s final,” I interject. 

“I disagree,” replies Jeb, with a voice as redundant and sweet as mine is. “I think there’s a lot to consider here, honey.” 

“None of which as important as the fact that I won’t let you go out and get another body by yourselves.” 

“Come on,” scoffs Jared, “wouldn’t be the first raid we do without you.” 

“I’m fully aware,” I nod towards his direction; I’ve specifically avoided thinking of the risks they used to take by going out of the caves on those raids all alone, “but we did agree some time back you wouldn’t leave the caves without a Soul as your protection detail.” 

“Protection detail,” scowls Mel and I know she’s just rolled her eyes at the comparison. 

“We’ll manage,” replies Jared, his voice a little more stubborn and menacing now. 

“Can’t let you take that risk.” 

“It’s not only your decision to make,” scoffs Mel. 

“How are you planning on stopping us, may I ask?” Jared demands coldly. “You’re tied up to a bed.” 

Thanks for the reminder, I scowl internally--but thankfully Ian steps in, in an attempt to maintain the peace, knowing my allowance level today isn’t what they’re used to. 

“No need for a confrontation, alright?” he demands. “Let’s just talk it out.” 

“Yeah, sure. Should I summon a tribunal while we’re at it?” mocks Jared. 

“Actually--” 

This time, I interject Jeb. I know he’s all for involving our whole community in solving our main problems, including for example the tasks I could be assigned to after being transferred into this tiny and weak body, but I’ve got to draw the line somewhere. 

“No, there won’t be a tribunal for this, Jeb,” I scowl. “This is my decision.” 

“I beg to differ,” replies Mel, sending me one knowing look. She knows what she’s talking about--she’s lived this situation from the other side. She’s my strongest and vocal opponent, I realize now. 

_:-I like her,-:_ says Pet, right on time. 

“And I know what’s best for the both of us,” I contradict. “Just give me some time to talk to her. Make her see reason. Explain everything, let her understand the situation we’re in. I don’t think she grasps the concept of putting us all in danger simply by stepping outside.”

_:-What makes you think you can change my mind?-:_

I dismiss her question as soon as it pops up. I’ll deal with her later, if I manage to get that chance. 

“That way she won’t be a threat to any of us,” I resume, “and we’ll be able to get that body safely, without risking any more lives than necessary. All she wants right now is getting her body back. At least let me explain her why that could take a while.” 

No-one speaks against that idea at first--well, not verbally, at least, Pet’s drilling my brain with endless yells and complaints. But the fact that Mel can’t say anything against it means the world to me: means I’ve won the argument, however impossible it’d seemed. I could change her mind, certainly I can do it again. Even if that first time was a two-sides effort, an important contribution coming from Mel as well. 

Ian takes my hand, forcing me to look at him. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, uncertain, trying to coax an honest answer out of me. 

He’d grant me anything, but this could hurt me, and he couldn’t handle this. However, the fact that they’d grant me, and hence her, anything, is the main reason why I have to do this. She’s able to overpower me; if I lose my mind she could walk out of here freely speaking through me and acting like me, ultimately endangering our whole community. I can’t let them take this body outside the caves either to snatch another body. 

“Yeah,” I promise quickly, wishing my lying abilities could have improved a notch considering the amount of time I’ve spent with humans. “Just give us some time and privacy.” 

“Doc?” asks Jeb and I turn towards Eustace, who sends me a stern look. I know what he means before he says a single word. 

“Wanda, this is--” 

“I promise you I can handle it, Doc. I’ll be fine.” 

He doesn’t look satisfied and proves so with a single statement. 

“I’ll stick around just in case, OK?” 

I nod, not able to tell him no. In the back of my mind, I thank him his kindness. I might need assistance to survive what’s coming; I’m mentally beat already and the battle’s nowhere near finished. 

“Jeb,” I demand before he leaves my bed. “Don’t use this time to summon a tribunal. I wouldn’t forgive you.” 

Even through his poker face, I can see he was considering it, taking advantage of my inability to speak on my behalf. I gasp when I realize the rest were thinking the same thing, except from Ian, maybe. 

“Please don’t. There’re some people I don’t want to know about this,” I beg. 

Well, only one, actually, but if Jamie hears about my precious host awaking and hurting me in the process, I’ll never know the end of it. He helped choosing the host, after all--he’ll be devastated. The tribunal would just be the ultimate way for him to learn about what’s happening. 

“We’ll keep the boy away,” Jeb sighs in the end, knowing such a task is down to him after trying to deceive me. 

“Thanks.” 

Ian speaks up again, his voice showing the torture on his own mind. 

“Please tell me we can untie you now,” he begs, eyeing the ropes around my wrists, chest and ankles. 

Everyone looks up to me, hoping to hear an affirmative answer. Pet certainly vouches for it. But I consider it for a couple of seconds and then let out a silent sigh that’s the answer Ian feared I’d give. 

“No, don’t,” I reply. “Just in case.” 

Jeb nods a couple of times, probably being the only one who understands why they cannot release me, however it hurts them to see me restraint like this. Without another word he leaves my side, clicking his tongue so Jared, Doc and Brandt follow him away. Ian stays, still holding my hand, indicating he won’t leave my side till he’s forced to--so Mel will have to tell me whatever’s inside her mind in front of him too. It doesn’t bother her. 

“Listen, Pet--Have you remembered your name?” she asks, though that wasn’t what she wanted to say in the first place. 

“She hasn’t,” I answer. “It’s just Pet from now.” 

“Well, it may come back to you soon,” encourages Mel. “But I wanted to tell you, ask you, really, is to trust Wanderer. I was the one she was inserted in in the first place and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy at first--until we reached an understanding. Whatever she does, she always tries to choose the best option for everyone involved, including you. Do try to trust her.” 

_:-Thanks. And I'll try,-:_ sighs Pet, truly, desperately wanting to believe Mel’s words. 

I nod to show Mel that Pet understood the message. With that, Mel pats me on the feet encouragingly and Ian on the shoulder on her way out, leaving us alone--or as alone as we can with a third party inside my mind. 

He seems to remember that detail as well, because he chuckles under his breath. With Mel we never had a private moment to ourselves and it’d seem now’s not the time for it either. 

However, he leans in so he can speak in a delicate, sweet, meaningful whisper. 

“Good luck,” he encourages. 

He must have figured out a kiss wouldn’t help me in any way, though I’d welcome it, so he settles for caressing my hair, letting go of my hand very slowly as he steps away reluctantly. 

I fight back the tears filling my eyes, but unfortunately Doc sees them when he steps forward after he dismisses everyone from the hospital wing. 

“Are you sure?” he demands, resting a hand on my shoulder. 

“I have to try, Doc.” 

He shakes his head, just as concerned and undecided as I am, but I can’t pull this off. 

“Let me do this, Doc, please.” 

“I know I can’t talk you out of this,” he sighs deeply. “I’ll be right here if you need me. And--” 

He raises his free hand, showing another handkerchief, the message clear. He wouldn’t be too happy to do it, same way I don’t want him to. I think it through for a couple seconds but this time, I’m given the answer before I have to decide. 

_:-You know, I’m not a suicidal either,-:_ scowls Pet. _:-Tell him to piss off.-:_

“I’ll be fine, Doc,” I reply, translating her words to a more courteous answer than Pet’s sharp and rude words, smiling fondly at him. 

The chosen option gets the three of us visibly more relaxed and allows us three to breathe out some air we didn’t know we were holding back. Throwing the handkerchief over his shoulder without a care in the world, Doc squeezes my shoulder one last time, winks at me and with two steps, he’s out of my visual field. 

Leaving me all alone with Pet inside my mind. I notice my exhaustion; I’m not mentally prepared for this. But there’s not another option. I can’t let her free and we need to trust each other; or at least know who has to be the driver for the time being, till I can give Pet her body back. 

I notice Doc’s concerned stare on me. Wherever he is, he won’t exactly leave our side for a moment until we’re done. I appreciate it; if he were truly to be needed, it’d mean I’d lost the battle. He’d be the only person between the other me, a human with all the implications of said adjectives, and our whole family and existence. Not such a wonderful prospect, I reckon, closing my eyes in an attempt to forget all about his presence here. I need to focus only on Pet and our conversation. 

I sigh deeply, holding onto the edges of the bed with my hands, forcing my wrists into an uncomfortable position. 

“Okay, Pet. Here we go.”


	4. Chapter 4

_:-You could have let them release us. I’m not going crazy again and my wrists hurt.-:_

:-And my ankles. And I’ve got a terrible headache,-: I add to the list, sharper than she expected from me. :-But I cannot do that just yet.-:

_:-Oh, please! You’re trying to get me to trust you and you can’t extend the same courtesy to me?-:_

:-I will, the moment you give me the chance to explain and see reason.-: 

It seems like a commitment we can both agree on, so she stops complaining--for two very brief seconds. 

_:-What exactly are you planning on doing?-:_ she demands, weary once again by being all alone withe me--the presence of human beings calmed her down a notch, even without knowing them. 

:-Like I said, explain everything to you,-: I say matter-of-factly, trying to get comfortable on the bed. 

_:-I’m not...-:_

:-You don’t have to do anything. I’ll just show you.-: 

_:-Hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck same way as I am.-:_

:-Will you please shut up?-: I order sharply, since I’m trying to focus through the headache I’m suffering. :-You can access my memories--I’ll show you. Just sit tight and enjoy the movie.-: 

_:-You’re so much fun, I don’t know what I’ve been doing my whole life before I met you.-:_

I don’t bother to dignify her scowl with any kind of answer; I’m a bit concerned how this situation is becoming more and more similar to the life I used to know back in San Diego when Mel occupied my mind, how easily I can tune out her complaints to focus on the task at hand. I don’t want to fall down on that routine. 

_:-So give me back my body and snatch someone else’s,-:_ she suggests as a solution to my remorse. 

I roll my eyes mentally and don’t let her distract me from my job, that is, carefully choosing the memories I can show her, so she understands everything this family’s gone through the past months. We don’t have time for a six-hour movie review so I try to cut it short with the most necessary scenes that best explain both points of view and the evolution we all made in an incredibly short amount of time.

Considering it’s my own story, my family’s, it’s harder than I thought re-watching it now with Pet--there are some parts I’m not so keen to remember. I’ve been told that each and every one of those experiences built the person I am today and though I’ll never deny or try to forget what’s happened to me, I don’t wish either to go back to that time. 

I flinch again upon Mel’s initial hatred towards me, my heart aches for Jamie and Jared when I started considering them part of my own blood without even knowing them and I fear for their well-being once more in spite of knowing they’re both safe and sound somewhere in the caves. Becoming friends, then sisters, with Mel. The suicidal journey through the desert that we barely survived. All the physical and mental abuse I was in no way ready for, lasting for days and weeks on end. The ever so slowly integration to the different tasks of the caves and into the suspicious, fearful community, prompted by one crazy Jeb. Believing to be a part of the family to be rejected once again. People--my closest family--starting to believe Mel was actually alive with me. Discovering something new towards Ian, something I couldn’t describe and Mel refused to break it down for me. Walter. Kyle’s attack and trial. Falling in love with Ian--knowing what it was, knowing it wasn’t the same as with Jared. Jamie’s sickness and doing everything within my power, absolutely everything, to save him, a human kid whom a Soul wouldn’t show such love for. Finally belonging into the community, being accepted, being a useful, key member of our family. 

There’s no way I could ever confess to anyone, much less Pet, whose trust I’m trying to gain, some selfish actions I’m performing as she watches my life’s story. Just like Mel did when I was first inserted inside her mind, I try to keep from Pet some of the most relevant memories, in order not to give Pet that much information and protect, to some degree, my family. I’m not sure I succeed--I’m not as strong as Mel is, for one; and I’m exhausted, feeling as if my brain’s about to explode if I attempt to do one more thing today. My attempts might have been useless, but I keep that goal in mind nonetheless. 

It’s so strange to review all of that when I’ve tried not to think about it, just live the moment, but also knowing someone else entirely is watching the movie of my life. It puts me on edge. I need her trust and she needs to trust me in return; but I can feel we both are holding back on that. 

When the movie’s finally over, I curiously poke around Pet’s location, probing her mental and emotional state. What I showed her has got to be useful, she must have realized I as a Soul love my human family and would never let any harm come to them, and every member of the community loves me back unconditionally. This has to be a milestone on her point of view about the bonds and relationships she’s been able to observe around here, that have absolutely no connection to what she as a human believed and feared all the time multiple Souls that were implanted inside of her. 

_:-Wow,-:_ she sighs after the movie’s over. _:-You’ve had a complicated existence here on Earth.-:_

:-Tell me about it.-: 

_:-Bet you wish you could return to one of the other Planets out there--you’d be happier.-:_

:-You’d think so, but not really. I’ve found my place here amongst humans.-: 

_:-I could tell,-:_ she confirms and Ian’s picture appears in both our minds. Strange as it may be, the thought of him makes us both relax a little bit, loosening a notch the stiff connection we’ve been forced to establish between us. 

She stays quiet and I don’t push her, giving her time to process everything. I can notice her mind buzzing with a thousand questions that were bound to be there. 

_:-How did that...-:_

:-Humans change. You evolve, develop constantly,-: I tell her something she already knows about her own race. :-It was only natural that the most open-minded and the friendliest of humans would believe me at some point--and extend their peace of mind to the rest.-: 

_:-But...Why? Why do they love you?-:_

:-They saw I as a Soul would never hurt them. Then they understood I could be helpful to the community. By the time Kyle attacked me, half of them were affectionate, to say the least, towards me. I’m lucky to be able to say that such kindness grew into love, in time.-:

_:-And how’d you end up loving them? After what they did to you?-:_

I sigh deeply before I try to give an answer to that one question. Could have expected she’d ask it, but predictability doesn’t make any easier to explain how did I end up loving most of the members of this crazy, marvelous family--I haven’t given up in the nonsensical battle with Maggie and Shanon, to be honest. But it’s not an easy, nor brief, explanation. When I was inserted inside Mel I didn’t think I could ever feel sorry, much less sympathy, towards any human being. The feeling kind of persisted while they kept me prisoner--though by that time I’d already opened up my mind, heart and soul towards some humans. 

:-What is love, anyway? The fact that none of these humans would ever be able to hurt me? The fact that they trust me implicitly every time they allow me out of these caves? The fact that most of them would weep and mourn if something horrible happened to me? Is that love, or affection, diminished in any way knowing that they’re willing to do for you, one of their own, almost anything to help you?-: I ask back, clearly stalling, and she picks up on that. 

_:-I don’t think if you’ve noticed, Wanderer, but I’m not exactly up for a debate at the moment,-:_ she scowls. _:-Although I’d say all the examples from above count as love, yes--except for the last one. The way that man, Ian, looks at you is proof enough. The fact that holding you down forcefully actually, emotionally, hurt those three. Yes, that is love, in my book.-:_

:-Thank you,-: I appreciate, though internally I don’t like how fast she’s picking up on the little things she’s been able to see by now. :-To answer your question. Jamie, I started loving him through Mel’s feeling, so by the time I came to the caves, I already considered him my sibling. That’s mainly why I left the Soul community and came here looking for them--I wanted to know if the kid was alive. It was similar with Jared, I guess. My body still loved him and craved for him. But the whole thing turned upside down when I realized I had my own feelings, separated from Mel’s, towards Ian. Heart and mind; two different things on our case, with two very different goals. Jeb, on the other hand--he was the first one to believe me and give me a chance; that creates one special bond, since the beginning, whether you want it or not. With the rest of them, I guess you can say it was the same way they felt about me. Once I learnt they didn’t want to kill me, I slowly started to trust them, then the feeling grew into affection and finally, love. Now as you could see I’m a part of this family as much as the next one, as much as any of the human members; I’d mourn if we lost any of them or if anyone got hurt, same as they’d suffer if I was put in harm’s way.-: 

_:-Yeah, that, I could see,-: _she says, and another picture of Ian’s pops into our minds, though this one cripples my heart. His anxious-looking face and tears in his eyes, looking down on me as I struggled on the bed earlier today, is something I cannot bear for long and I dismiss the thought hurriedly, before I start crying too.__

_:-Sorry I put you in that situation.-:_

Her apology actually sounds genuine and I freeze for a second--she’d only show her real concern if she actually felt it. Which means that maybe, the movie and my speech did sink on her and helped her change her mind. 

She understands my expectations and sighs deeply, thinking it through before speaking--or sharing her mind with me. And from the beginning of her speech I can tell she does believe in me and, hence, our whole family, and that she’s not a threat to us, but can be another valuable, beloved member of the community. Just like those other humans we saved by extracting the Souls within their minds. 

_:-Thank you, Wanderer. I think I understand now. I’ve borne a grudge and hated your species for far too long--and hated humans at the same time--because no Soul would explain things to me and on the other hand, Souls were inextricably afraid of the human race. I can see now that humankind hasn’t gone wacky since I’ve been away; there’s a rational reason behind all those humans, my species, should end up trusting you after what you did.-:_

_:-Thank you for allowing me to explain, Pet.-:_

_:-I’ll confess I was weary, but...It was worth a shot. You hadn’t given me any other option, anyhow.-:_

:-Sorry ‘bout that,-: I chuckle, my laughter reverberating the bed under me.

_:-Don’t be, really. Listen--I could see at the end of it, how you’ve been helping other humans since you were inserted inside of me?-:_

:-Oh, yeah, we have, every chance we’ve got,-: I promise, so she doesn’t think I’ve been slacking off inside her body. :-Our small contribution for now at fighting back and giving humankind a chance at surviving. We abduct people, extract the Souls from them, make sure the human wakes up, send the Souls to another Planet. We’re cautious not to send them to any nearby ecosystem--this way, by the time they reach their new home and try to tell the tale, every human living in the caves will be long dead.-: 

Probably not the best topic of conversation for the first time Pet and I are able to be open-minded to each other; I notice how she tenses upon my words, something I should have predicted. I change the subject as soon as I can. 

:-Before we started these missions, it was agreed no-one else would die, from either species, yours or mine,-: I resume, explaining the question I could sense forming inside her mind. The longer we’re connected and more or less in a stable state of mind, I can sense her thoughts more clearly. :-They wouldn’t kill a Soul behind my back and I’d do my best to bring back every human I was able to. Of course, leaving the Soul inside would be the preferable choice if the human didn’t wake. That’s what we did in your case--we waited a few days, but you didn’t respond nor accepted any kind of food or liquids. You would have died if...-:

_:-Wanderer, don’t try to justify anymore the decision you made. I understand now and thank you for what you did,-:_ she interjects kindly, seeing how it’s best being alive still, even if it’s with me occupying her mind. 

:-We’ll fix this,-: I promise.

_:-I know you will,-:_ she nods, seemingly at peace. Then, she sighs deeply. _:-Your species have shaken up our whole world, haven’t they?-:_

I shake my head at that idea. If we were truly given the chance, humans and Souls, to sit down for a few hours and talk at length about what we Souls did upon coming here on Earth, we’d understand our reasons instead of hating each other.

:-I consider it more of a two-way evolution, really. What you’ve seen right here, me turning against Souls and becoming a part of a human community, wouldn’t be possible if humans hadn’t put aside their hatred and fear in the first place.-:

_:-Guess I can try to do the same.-:_

:-Please do. I’m never going to hurt you. I promise.-: 

These words seal the beginning of what I can tell will be a very strange and uncomfortable existence for the both of us. The only silver lining I can see for the time being is that we’re both on the same page, at least; here’s to achieve not making each other disappear.

_:-Okay,-:_ she sighs in the end. She seems up and even thrilled to anything I suggest that might help get her body back. 

:-Let’s do this, then, Pet,-: I encourage. 

She hesitates for just a second--enough for me to notice, so I stick around, poking her carefully to let her know I’m here and that she should talk to me. After all, I’m the only one she can talk to, for now. We better be straight and completely honest with each other if we want to survive this. 

:-Something wrong?-: I demand. 

_:-You can call me April,-:_ she says all of a sudden, sounding just a bit dazzled to be saying it and also, a bit embarrassed. 

:-April?-: I repeat, the tone of a smile in my voice. 

_:-That’s not exactly my name, but it’s close enough,-:_ she explains. _:-I feel as if belonged to me, but it doesn’t, at the same time.-:_

:-That’s a start,-: I encourage, trying to send her the equivalent of a warm smile and a squeeze of her shoulder. :-We’ll get your name back, don’t worry; and the rest of your memories as well. We’re going to find a solution.-: 

_:-I'm all up for it,-: she nods._

We await expectantly, April in the back of my mind, me preparing myself mentally and emotionally for what’s to come, as I try to tune in with the real world. After half a minute or so, way too long given my lasting experience, I realize I’m managing nothing. 

_:-Thought we were about to talk with the others?-:_ April asks, a bit reluctant, feeling uneasy with my incompetence, more than myself. I haven’t moved an inch or said a syllable. What’s worse, I can’t even hear anything outside my mind, only April’s voice; and I can’t even open my eyes to let someone, anyone, know I’m actually awake.

:-Yes, that was the idea,-: I scowl. :-I’m just exhausted, I can’t do it.-: 

_:-So we’re not getting my body back,-:_ she complains. 

:-I’m sorry. I want to give you your mind back, believe me. I’m just too tired, I can’t move a single finger.-: 

_:-Let me try,-:_ she suggests, sounding only too eager to be back in control of her mind and body. She’s already trying to force me aside of my own mind by the time I can manage an answer.

:-It’s not physical exhaustion, you taking charge wouldn’t change a thing,-: I reply, irritated that she should think of as that much of a useless Soul. :-My mind can’t take it any more; wake up and argue again with my family. . . I can’t do it, I’d pass out. Please.-:

__

_:-No one’s ever told me talking to me could cause a headache,-:_ she whispers, as she notices my state of mind, truly apologetic. Her attempt at joke would have made me smile if I wasn’t so damn tired.

__

:-Your wakening wasn’t that much peaceful,-: I try to joke. :-To put it simply, fighting both you and my family is more than I can bear.-: 

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_:-Okay,-:_ she nods. Her quiet voice and weary disposition tell me what she was afraid, or felt too shy, to ask me. 

__

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:-April, I promise you, this isn’t an excuse to keep you inside my mind for longer than necessary,-: I vow, hoping this time she sees the authenticity in my words. :-I just can’t take it any longer--give me a few hours to rest. Then we’ll just go out and look for another body to put me in. I give you my word. I promised you we’d solve this ordeal and that’s what we’re going to do--as soon as I’m strong enough to get up from this bed.-:

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_:-Alright, I got it. I can wait a few more hours.-: _she agrees finally.__

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_____ _

__

She has to sense as well my tiredness; even if I wanted to, there’s no way I’m fit to leave the caves on such an important and risky mission. The whole idea of talking to her was for April to see the precarious situation this human family lives on a daily basis; she has to understand this is the best for everyone, for the time being. And even if she doesn’t, I’m all too tired to explain everything again to her--my mind’s drifting off already, as if Doc had sedated me all over again. Even keeping up a conversation with April to help her regain her memories is out of the question for me, the way I’m feeling. 

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_:-Good night, Wanderer,-:_ she whispers, a good-natured, kind sentence, that marks a striking difference with when she first woke up and we she hated me as only a human could hate some other being, with all her might. 

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___:-Talk to you in a while,-: I bid farewell with my last coherent thought._ _ _

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	5. Chapter 5

I’m still on the edge of subconsciousness when I notice the odd thing that jolts me awake in fright: action. My body’s moving on its own accord, without my mind ordering it to. 

I force myself to react and reconnect all of my nerves to the host’s, to figure out what in the world is going on. For the time being, all I can tell is that I’m no longer laying down on whatever bed or mattress they’d placed me on in the first place. I’m free from my restraints and, what’s worse, up and running. 

When I finally get my sight back, I see I’m stepping silently across the dark-pitched hospital, but since these eyes are so used to the darkness and my mind knows the distribution of the beds, cupboards and desks of the hospital, April has no trouble moving around the place. Doc’s the only one here apart from us: he’s resting on his desk, his head against his crossed arms, his deep breathing indicating he fell asleep looking after me during my nap. Which now I realize was the worst idea I could have had: the way I’m walking, half-crouched, ready for action, and mute steps--it’s obvious April’s in charge of the body now. And I can tell before asking she’s not giving it back to me. 

:-What are you doing?!-: I demand. 

_:-Oh, hello, Wanderer, dear,-:_ she greets, her voice not matching her amiable words, but rather being cold and distant, creepy. _:-How was your nap?-:_

:-Too long, from what I can see!-: I exclaim, desperate. :-Stop! Give me my body!-: 

_:-It’s my body,-:_ she insists for the millionth time. _:-You’re not getting it back now that I’ve got control.-:_

I panic upon those words and force myself to control again my hands, my thoughts, my movements. But she's completely right: no matter how much I try, how desperate I attempt to push her aside and regain access to what once was _my_ mind and body, she dismisses all my efforts and struggles way too easily, letting me know silently--menacingly--that she could have overpowered me any time she wanted the last few hours. How could I be so stupid? 

:-Please, April, stop!-:

She doesn’t listen to a word I say and I’ve got no means to stop her--I know begging won’t do the trick, although that knowledge doesn’t stop me from trying. 

:-What...Are you doing?-: I demand weary, when I see she’s walking straight towards Doc and I realize I’ve got both a scalpel and a Peace aerosol can on our hands. How does she know about them when she wasn’t a Healer I can’t tell, but she’s well aware of how to use it. Completely silent, in a way only a human could ever walk, she heads for Doc. 

:-Please, don’t!!-: I beg her desperate, realizing her intentions. 

She doesn’t even bother answering me and she stands behind Doc, merely a few inches from the man. I try to shout, reach out a hand and slap him as hard as I can to wake him up; all of it useless. April’s the one in control and so uses the Peace aerosol to completely drag Doc out of it. The poor man, unconscious, falls from the chair to the ground with a thud. 

:-Doc,-: I whimper. 

April doesn’t let me help him or make sure he’s fine; she’s rummaging the drawers of the desk, till she finds the flashlight she was somehow certain she’d find. Without taking a second look at Doc, she places the flashlight on the trousers’ belt, keeping the Peace aerosol and the scalpel on hand. 

:-April, please, hold on a second,-: I beg. 

_:-I’m not staying here a minute longer,-:_ she scowls. _:-I’m leaving.-:_

:-There’s no way in hell you are.-:

 _:-Try to stop me,-:_ she dares, turning around. 

Her eyes fall upon the food of tray laying on one of the beds, obviously meant for me. The smell leaves my mouth watering and I realize we haven’t eaten or drunk anything for hours. 

_:-There’s no time for a snack now,-:_ groans April, leaving the hospital for good. 

:-Trust me, if you really want to get out of here, our body needs proteins. And liquids.-: 

_:-It’s not our body, it’s only mine.-:_

:-April! Can’t we talk for a second?!-:

_:-You’ve done your talking. It’s too late now.-:_

:-But...I thought you understood? That you...-:

_:-Oh, certainly. That all of a sudden I’d come to love a treacherous, despicable species like you Souls? No, not at all. You talked and said what you wanted, I played my part, that’s all.-:_

:-Who’s the traitor between the two of us?-: I demand with malice in my voice, really trying to hurt her--anything that’ll stop her. 

_:-Who took my body without asking permission, when I was defenseless?-:_

:-I told you, we thought we were saving you...-:

_:-And I told you, I don’t want to hear you anymore.-:_

It feels as if her wishes are my commands--she only had to think about outing me out for me to feel dragged to the corner of my mind. I’ve got barely the willpower left to pull me back so I can at least access her senses and know what’s going on, but holding a conversation and forming the words in my mind is difficult and exhausting. I might end up passing out. 

_:-Be my guest,-:_ she scowls. 

:-April, you have to listen to me. You’ll never make it.-: 

_:-Of course I will,-:_ she replies. 

:-No, you won’t, I can tell you that. We’ve got guards everywhere, they’ll see you from the moment you get out of the hospital corridor. And you’ll never be able to find the exit.-: 

_:-Well, I remember you saying that they’ll grant you anything,-:_ she reminds me, coldly, maquiavellicaly. _:-I look just like you; they’ll grant me anything as well. For example, the exit to this death trap.-:_

:-No,-: I whimper. But we know it’s just a defeated sigh, surrendering; she’s completely right. She’s caught up with my thoughts and feelings way faster than I thought, accessed my thoughts and all the information necessary in record time. She could pull this off. 

_:-That’s right,-:_ she nods, quite pleased with herself. 

I give up, understanding that for now, I’m just the copilot in this vessel. Even if I wasn’t so tired, I would never find the strength to fight April, a human being--it’s been proven time and time again that I can’t win in any kind of contest. 

:-It’s night?-: I ask a little while later. 

We can only see where we stand thanks to the equidistant lamplights placed around the corridors, the ones we only light when no exterior light comes in. I’ve spent way too much time talking to April, it’d may seem. An extenuating chat that’s only brought bad results for the time being. 

At that moment I realize I know how she’s escaped in the first place. She’s just evil. Human. She’s understood, though not accepted, our family. She’s just played with us, begged, plead on my name. Which is just wrong. 

:-April, please, stop.-: 

_:-Wanderer, no more talking. Now you know--there’s no length I won’t go to get what’s rightfully mine.-:_

:-Line form behinds me. I have a family to protect, April. I promised you we could get your body back. If you gave us more time...-:

“Who’s there?” asks a voice--takes me a moment to recognize Geoffrey. 

:-Told you you’d find guards,-: I reproach, though I know deep inside Geoffrey wasn’t on guard duty tonight. He doesn’t have any weapon nor he’s carrying a flashlight, reason why we only see his dark silhouette against the light coming from behind him. 

:-I’m going to scream. I’m going to warn him.-: 

_:-Do it if you can,-:_ she dares me and then she speaks with the sweetest voice she can pull off, perfectly pretending my mellowed tone and peaceful disposition like only a human could deceit someone else. 

“It’s me, Geoffrey, Wanderer.” 

“Oh.” 

Geoffrey relaxes visibly upon recognizing Pet’s small figure and my voice, which is exactly the opposite to what he should do. I’m clearly not a threat to him--if I were the one still controlling the body. He steps forward to be at the same level as me, standing in the middle of the caves, facing the corridor we’ve just left. 

“They let you out of the hospital?” 

“Wanted to stretch my legs,” chuckles Pet. 

“Can see why. You feeling OK?”

“More than OK, really,” promises Pet, resting against the wall. Geoffrey imitates her, leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor, completely at ease. “You? What’re you doing around here so late?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” explains the man. “Decided for a stroll--and a midnight snack, too.” 

Geoffrey’s slightly embarrassed confession gets Pet chuckling, while she walks around the man to be behind him. The situation’s strikingly similar to when she faced Doc a few minutes earlier; and once again I’m fighting a lost battle when I try to warn Geoffrey or move Pet away from the man. 

Everything’s useless. It doesn’t matter April’s body is that small and weak; she crosses her arms around Geoffrey’s neck, forcing him down. The surprised man can do nothing but to drop on his knees and send his hands up in an attempt to push me away from him. However, she’s got an unbreakable lock around his neck and soon enough the man stops fidgeting altogether, his arms falling to his sides. 

:-STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HIM!-: 

Maybe my terrified shriek does the trick, but April releases Geoffrey that same instant, letting him drop to the ground. She kneels by the body and checks his pulse; the sigh of relief floods my brain. 

_:-He’s just unconscious, you moron. Such a drama queen.-:_

:-I don’t want my family murdered because of me!-: 

_:-That’s entirely up to you, Wanderer: if you want to prevent anyone getting hurt, you’ll help me escape.-:_

:-You’re crazy! I won’t do that!-: 

_:-Your choice.-:_

She does the mental equivalent of shrugging her shoulders, as if she didn’t care one way or the other--and probably doesn’t, she’s set to find the entrance comes Hell or high water. She stands in one swift movement, dashing forwards, quietly, despite the loose stones on the ground, even when she doesn’t know any of the corridors. She’s taken much too information from me; for now I’m just focused on preventing her from accessing the one piece of information she cannot get a hold to. 

:-April, you can’t keep doing this! You can’t hurt my family--they’re your family too!-:

_:-As if. If that were true, they wouldn’t have kept me tied up to a freaking bed or kept you inside my mind.-:_

:-That was to prevent exactly what you’re doing--putting us all in danger!-: 

_:-The same way you, a freaking Soul, puts them all in danger for living with them?-:_

:-I would never let any harm come to any of my family members,-: I say flatly, outraged that, after what I’ve told and showed her, she might still think I feel nothing but affection and love for the people who live inside these caves. 

_:-Prove it. Heads up,-:_ she warns. 

At once I reinforce the connection with her sight sense. My heart freezes for one second too long when I see the face of our new hindrance to our leaving the caves: Jamie’s coming running towards us, a wrinkle between his eyes, clearly surprised to see me here. 

:-Don’t you dare hurt him,-: I threaten, though she knows it’s nothing but an angered plea. 

_:-Like I said, it’s up to you.-:_ Just in case, one of the two of us, April or me, puts away the scalpel and the Peace aerosol, deep in our trousers’ pockets, in order not to alert the kid.

Jamie gets to us at that moment, hugging me from the waist. Although April feels nothing like it, I manage somehow to return the embrace, holding Jamie tight, hoping this isn’t the last time I can hold him in my arms. 

“Wanda! What’re you doing here? Weren’t you on a raid? Did you guys come back so early? Where’re the others? Are you alright?”

There’s no way I can answer all of those questions and the half dozen more Jamie’s about to drop--April won’t let me. She’s already reaching a hand for the Peace aerosol to put a stop to Jamie’s list of requests. What she didn’t take into account was, there’s no way I’m allowing her to hurt Jamie. I don’t know how--though at the same time, I don’t have to question the strength of mother’s love for a second--I manage to spring and gain acces to my body. 

I lean to be eye-level with Jamie, rudely cutting off his questions, but I don’t have time or energy to justify my behavior. 

“Jamie, shut up,” I order sharply. “Go back to the dormitories. Don’t come back looking for me.” 

April isn’t gone for good; she’s blocking some of my thoughts and words, not allowing me to tell Jamie to wake up everybody, warn our whole family and put me down for good. The one thing I could tell him, but only because she knows I could never ask Jamie to do so, is ordering him to hold me down. If Ian, Mel and Jared had a hard time doing it, Jamie’d never be able to. 

“Wanda?” he asks, a little bit in fright. 

“I can’t explain, Jamie, I’m sorry. GO!” I order finally, raising my voice, before I lose control. 

My sharp shriek, that echoes against the wall caves, frightens the boy. He jumps backwards, getting away from me, dazzlement clear in his eyes, fearing me for the first time. That look hurts me as much as the shriek and the order frightened him; but we can do nothing about it. After two long seconds, hiding the tears forming in his eyes, Jamie turns around and running, heads for the tunnels leading to the dormitories. 

I don’t wait around to see him off--that’d be too hard to watch. I try to head back to the hospital now that I’ve got our body back, but I see I’m not strong enough. 

_:-What do you think you’re doing?-:_ asks April patronizingly. 

The ease with what she regains control to her body scares me; she could have done so whenever she wanted throughout my brief conversation with Jamie. She could have hurt the boy. 

_:-Exactly. And I won’t hesitate so much with the rest of your so-called family,-:_ she promises me. _:-So tell me, which way?-:_

She’s stopped in the middle of the kitchens, contemplating the many corridors before her, knowing one of them will lead her to the exit. She also knows one leads to the dormitories, since Jamie’s headed this way, and that’s one she’d like to avoid. I shut myself down completely; she won’t be getting that vital information from me. I will not give her the answer to the puzzle so she can murder everyone in the caves, including me in the process. 

That’s why I’m dumbfounded when April steps forward and chooses precisely the correct corridor, seemingly completely certain of her decision. I can’t stop myself from scowling and yelling, begging for her to stop--which confirms her guess, though it was more than a mild guess, somehow. 

:-How in the world...-:

 _:-You gave me the answer, whether you wanted or not, Wanderer,-:_ she replies. 

I don’t understand her words--I would never let her in that secret. Till I realize, when she shows it to me, that I unwillingly did give her the piece of information she wanted. By blocking it so fiercely and allowing her access to everything else, she only has to look for any unknown passageways and corridors--those are the ones I wanted to avoid her seeing, the ones that are leading her right to the exit. Oh, boy. I am nowhere near Mel’s strength and willpower. She could block her memories from me for weeks and months, giving me incomprehensible breadcrumbs to follow. Me? I’ve given April everything she needed--breadcrumbs the size of watermelons. I’m a failure to both species. And her, on the other hand...She’s smart. She’s human. 

:-Please, don’t,-: I beg. We both know already it’s useless: she knows her way out and I cannot stop her. She’s going to succeed in getting out of these caves and I’m going to show everyone was right from the very start, from the moment Jeb brought me in: I’m a danger to this family. 

_:-Oh, Wanderer, don’t be so sad. It’s not the end of the world,-:_ April tries to comfort me, smug. As if her words could ever bring me any peace of mind. 

:-I’m telling you, this could be the end of these people’s lives if you don’t go back.-: 

_:-Like I can believe you. This is the beginning of my new life.-:_

:-No, it’s not, April--if anyone out there sees you...-:

:-You’re just trying to scare me because you bloody well know you’re not able to stop me.-: 

She’s right and we both know it. Defeated, I retreat back to my mind, sullen, not wanting to see how she finds the exit to the caves, sealing my family’s fate. They were right, Jeb should have shot me the minute he saw I was inside Mel’s body. I’ve only given them a few more months to live--is that the prize they have to pay for my selfishness for seeing the boy and Mel’s love once more? Or is this just payback for bringing sorrow and misery and pain to this community who’d find a way to get through the Apocalypse even before I got here? Or is it something much more simple, just the counteract of falling in love with a human? 

_:-Oh, god, you’re giving me a headache. Stop thinking.-:_

:-It’s the only thing I can do now. Don’t take it away from me as well,-: I beg. 

_:-It sucks, doesn’t it? Just being a conscience in the back of someone else’s mind?-:_

:-Was this all charade just an object lesson? Because you’ve already proven your point by now, April.-: 

_:-Of course not. Hell of a grand plan that’d be.-:_

A sudden bright stream of light hurts my eyes, as the second person in a row demands us to identify ourselves. My instinct reactions of calming the guardian, or recoil to one side, are overruled by April’s. She dashes forward without a word, the light still blinding us, reason why this time, she doesn’t reach for the Peace aerosol. 

:-NO!-: I beg, but it happens so fast, I could never have stopped her. 

I recognize Heath’s face the exact moment my scalpel finds its target deep in his thigh, blood dripping down my hand and arm. I can’t even apologize when the man looks upon me with horror and fear, reaching a hand out--and April swifts the scalpel once more, this time aiming at Heath’s chest. 

“Wanda--” he moans, passing out, the flashlight crashing against the ground. 

April allows me to hold him in my arms to prevent his fall the the ground--later I’d realize she only did that so Heath’s drop wouldn’t be noticed. The dim stream of light from the broken flashlight still lets me see Heath’s face as I lay him down on the floor, breaking my heart seeing the pain in his eyes as he thinks I’ve just betrayed all of them. 

Once the man is on the floor, April stands and dashes forward the corridor. 

:-Turn back! You could have killed him!-: 

_:-Please, I barely scratched him,-:_ she says, something that’s not at all reassuring to me. 

:-You don’t know that! There was blood!-: I shriek, the dark, thick liquid, proof that I’ve just injured at best one of my family members, still fresh in my hands and arms. 

_:-Calm down. I know how to defend myself and attack someone only to prevent them from following me.-:_

:-Is that supposed to make me feel any better?!-: 

_:-Not really. I don’t care what or how you feel,-:_ she confesses, her true nature showing off now of all times. _:-Just stating a fact. He’s not dead.-:_

:-We left him bleeding! I said, turn back!!-: 

_:-Like that’s ever going to happen,-:_ she scowls in the end, wishing I’d go away. But if this is really all the pain and misery I can inflict upon her, I’m going to exploit it till it’s completely dry, I swear on my long existence. 

:-I hate you. I wish you end up dead. I wish I could physically hurt you somehow.-:

_:-Welcome to the club.-:_

I freeze when I notice a blast of cold wind different from the typical strange, closed atmosphere from the caves. She’s succeeding. We’re getting close to the surface, to the caves entrance. I never managed to find it in all my months of captivity and April’s been able to do so in less than twenty-four hours. Says something about what kind of Soul I really am. 

:-Please, April, I beg you, stop.-: 

She chuckles, proving the idiocy of my plea. Now that she’s so close to her goal, now that she’s--I’ve--injured two men of our community, there’s no turning back. I know that as well as she does. Many of the swearwords I’ve just learnt from her flow my mind, attacking her with words my only option by now. 

:-NO!-: I shriek when I see someone’s shadow sitting on a nearby rock, unmoving. 

Why are there so many people on guarding duty? Were they all that scared because of me and April that just had to put more people in harm’s way? Or was it just that he needed some clear air, this whole situation bringing him too many painful memories from when I was inserted inside Mel’s body? Did it have to be _Jared_? 

_:-Your choice,-:_ April reminds me coldly.

She hides behind some rocks, as not to alert Jared just yet from our presence outdoors, knowing he’ll raise all the alarms, giving me time to decide. 

I can’t pick between the aerosol and the scalpel. There’s no way I can talk reason into Jared so he lets me go. And even if she were to take charge, we would never be able to fight Jared. I couldn’t face it emotionally, she’d never win physically, even if she believes she could overpower the man. 

So I choose. 

She reads my mind, my idea, before I have to phrase it. 

_:-Scalpel it is, then,-:_ accepts April, though she sounds surprised by my choice. If she’d taken a moment to really read between the lines she’d understand my real decision--but she’s too set to leave the caves, she won’t listen to anyone, not even me. 

“Jared,” she says through my voice, with that peaceful tone that mirrors me perfectly. 

The man, startled by my presence, though he’s recognized me only too well, jumps off the rock and turns towards us, surprise in his eyes, plus the tiny bit amount of doubt and suspicion. April’s mind might be twisted and Machiavellian, but Jared’s also a human alright. 

“Wanda? You alright? Where’s Doc?” 

Before he starts questioning me as much as Jamie before, April flashes the scalpel, aimed at hurting Jared, maybe even slaughter him. Which is the last thing I’d ever allow her to do. 

It’s undeniable that I’m not as strong a woman as Mel, but I don’t have to worry about it this time: April’s put all her energy in the blow--all I have to do is redirect it by twisting my arm, letting the scalpel jab deep inside my own body, between the ribs. At first April doesn’t even realize what’s happened: only Jared’s panicked face looking down on my hand tells her something’s really wrong. But I’m not done--she’s strong enough to regain control again and actually hurt Jared. I pull the scalpel away and I cut myself again, higher this time, though also weaker due to the shock, on my chest. 

_“What the hell did you just do?!”_ scowls Jared. 

He’s all of a sudden by my side, a jump I missed with a blink of my eyes. The scalpel suddenly vanished from my hands, Jared’s holding me in his arms with a desperate look, not knowing how to assess the injuries. I barely notice how he’s slowly putting me down on the floor to avoid me hitting my head--and it hurts me so much more thinking I did the same thing with Heather minutes ago. I’ve caused so much trouble and pain to my whole family only because I’m just not strong enough. 

_:-You’re crazy! What in the world?!-:_

:-I told you--I couldn’t let you leave the caves, April.-: 

_:-And your solution was to kill us both?!-:_

:-Two lives in order to save twenty-four people seems a reasonable prize to pay.-: 

_:-Says you! I disagree! I don’t want to die! I only wanted my body back!-:_

:-Getting your body, the way you wanted, would have caused too much damage to my family. I can see you could never have considered them as such. I had to stop you, whatever means necessary.-: 

_:-But--I don’t want to die!!-:_

:-Too bad you weren’t open to a discussion when we had the chance,-: I scowl. 

“Wanda? Hold on, please!” begs Jared. I force my mind to stay with him until the end--I much rather be with the man I once loved than April. Even if doing so implies hearing his heartbroken sobs and pleas. 

“I’m sorry. . .” I manage to whisper. 

“Jesus Christ!” he shrieks, looking down on my injuries, feeling desperately useless, as I hang onto his arms. “Doc! _DOC! Anybody!_ ” 

His frantic cry towards the caves entrance, literally begging for a miracle, shakes my whole body and echoes in the silent night, to no goal. He’s never going to make it in time. Someone else I hurt. Doc. Jeoffrey. Jamie. Heath. And now I’ve practically committed suicide in front of Jared and am allowing him to witness the last moments of my existence. Leaving him devastated. Same with Ian, Mel, Jamie or Jeb. Why couldn’t I be stronger? Why couldn't I protect the members of this family the way I wanted to? Why have I brought so misery and pain to them, instead of joy and a feeling of safety and protection?

“My Lord, Wanda. . .Wanda. . .What have you done? What happened?” I hear his sobs fainting by the second, as he sends his hands to my injuries, applying pressure on them, only managing to make my leaving more painful. 

The face of the man I used to love, someone vital in my family and existence, and an endless, amazing, new moon dark sky plastered with a thousand stars and constellations. I’m glad I could see this scenery one last time--as far as last moments of an existence go, this ending could have been worse. I’m not complaining, apart from the throbbing pain I’m in. 

“No, Wanda, open your eyes! _Stay with me! Talk to me!_ What happened?!” begs Jared, shaking my body to jolt me awake. 

“April,” is the last word that escapes my mouth.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything hurts. 

That’s the ultimate truth. My head, my wrists, my ankles, my chest, my heart. My whole body feels like it’s going to explode--it’s the worst I’ve ever felt in all my existences. 

It’s also the worst end of existence I’ve ever experienced. Including my last one--saying goodbye to Mel and to this world was a pain purely emotional, nothing else. The manifestation of the ‘heartbroken’ expression that up to said moment I believed could only live in humankind literature. But this, what I’m feeling right now, is a hundred times harder than that time. 

And then I realize that being in this pain can only mean one thing. 

:-So I didn’t die?-: I whisper, not even wanting to believe it. 

I receive an immediate and angry response that doesn’t do well with my current state of mind. 

_:-No, you suicidal, moronic, bloody idiot, you didn’t kill us off. Despite your best intentions, I must say.-:_

:-How...-: 

_:-You nearly killed us both! You crazy! What kind of dickhead does that?!-:_

:-Please, stop it. I can’t...-: 

I can only take small intakes of air because of the pain of my rib cage. I try to send a hand up to my chest, as if that’d help in any way, when I notice I’m once again restrained. Things keep getting better and better--as April keeps piercing at top volume into my head. 

_:-You accused me of being out of my mind earlier--when I’m the sane one in this equation!!-:_

I cannot keep it down; I scream against the gag, a muffled sound barely above the noise drilling into my skull and the many steps and conversations from whoever’s standing beside me. Being out of air is probably the minor of my problems--if I had the time, I’d thank my mind for allowing me to pass out at the exact moment I needed to. 

And from that moment forward, I just let go. 

The next few times I regain consciousness, I don’t even try to fully come to my senses. Each time, I sense her inside my mind, I remember the painful expressions and looks those from my family--from Ian--that’ll be receiving me, there’s this spot deep in my chest that hurts so much. All in all, I’m in no rush to actually awake, so I let the morphine take me away time and time again. I don’t give up exactly--if I’m not dead yet, that means they won’t let me go down that line. But I do let go, not strong or brave enough to have another argument with April or my family, just yet. 

That doesn’t mean I get not to hear them, though. Sometimes, since all my other senses are blocked, my hearing is on point and I listen to a few conversations now and then. Just unconnected sentences--my mind’s too out of it to put faces or names to the voices surrounding me, much less giving them any meaning at all. 

“...for a couple hours at least--” 

“...Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Which is not appropriate--” 

I don’t get to hear the reasons why whatever they were discussing wasn’t appropriate. Later on, I wake up to a low scowl followed by a groan and a tired voice speaking. 

“...Goddammit, do I have to threaten everybody in these forsaken caves?” 

The next voice I hear, I recognize it--the pain, the anger, the remorse, I’ve heard it only too recently, it’s not something I’ll forget easily or any time soon. 

“My God. I still. . . I won’t forgive myself if. . .” 

“You can’t blame yourself, Jared--” 

“But I am. And he is. Jesus. To think he was right there, when it happened, saw me doing nothing while Wanda--” 

I don’t have the strength to ask who’s Jared talking about; I can’t stay awake long enough to figure out the subject of the sentence. This time I doze off with a terrible ache to my chest, my mind and to my heart--knowing Jared’s this concerned for someone, means that someone’s condition is pretty bad. I might have killed someone. 

_:-Oh, my God, calm down already,-:_ begs April, her voice apathetic contrasting with my worries. _:-I’m sure everyone in your family’s fine.-:_

:-Including the two men you injured?-: 

_:-Certainly. They were minor wounds at best. If they cannot survive those, I don’t know how can you call them ‘men’.-:_

:-Have some respect, will you? You’ve literally no idea of the damage you could have made.-: 

_:-I do. That’s why I’m telling you they’re going to be alright.-:_

I’ve got no time to answer back at her. 

Later on, the people talking are way beyond remorse and pain. They’re flat out angry, almost yelling--I know if they haven’t evolved into a full-grown argument yet is only out of consideration for my state. 

“...We all want to do the best for--” 

“That doesn’t mean we can let her stay--” 

“Not gonna happen, kiddo,” the old man interjects sternly. “Not today. Let’s just wait.” 

“We can’t!” 

“Is your suggestion any more plausible?!” 

I retreat back quickly this time, before I can understand they’re arguing about me, or the ones I’ve injured, or that I’ve caused the ultimate mayhem in our community. 

I can’t tell what’s the mental equivalent of groaning, moaning, scowling and swearing unintelligibly all at once, but that’s what I wake up to, when at some point my mind and the morphine stop offering me that sweet escape of drifting off to sleep time and time again--though I wish it did, considering the amount of pain signals my brain starts receiving too fast, too soon. 

To be more accurate, I almost wish my stunt had been successful--this is too much. For just a second. Then I open my eyes and realize the blindfold’s all but gone upon stumbling across Ian’s face a few inches above me. It takes me a moment to understand that his upside down position’s due because he’s sitting, or maybe standing, at the head of my bed; and his thumbs are caressing my cheeks, his right index finger tangled in my hair. What gets me breathless, apart from the ache in my ribs, is the tortured look on Ian’s eyes. I could never take my life from him, I know that now. I wasn’t thinking about all of my family when I stabbed myself. I’m an idiot--Ian’s crazy enough to pull a Romeo and Juliet after seeing me almost dead. And though he knows I’m fine for the time being, his face is so restrained and full of pain that I have a hard time breathing. 

I close my eyes again, realizing the sight of the man I love is the one thing I cannot bear at this instant. 

“Wanda,” he whimpers. 

No. I can’t do it. I can’t look at him. 

He doesn’t give me the chance to say the words. All of a sudden, his lips are on mine, kissing me desperately, frenzied--and I respond. I miss him and this is hurting both of us too much. We need to go back to the easy days--if there ever were--when he and I and our love was the only thing on our mind. 

Problem is, I’m not the only one he’s kissing. 

_:-HEY! Get his paws off my body!-:_ demands April, trying to do so on her own, but her arms don’t respond to her commands--I don’t want to hurt Ian, not now. 

:-He’s my boyfriend, get used to it-: I reply. 

_:-Not a chance in hell. This is my body. He’s not allowed to touch me--I barely know him!-:_

:-You would if you’d given us the chance,-: I remind her coldly. 

_:-Oh, please,-:_ she scoffs. 

My mind’s dizzy, whether it is from the kiss, from April’s anger or the morphine; either way, I know I can’t let this kiss to last for ever, even when my body wants it to. 

“Please,” I beg against Ian’s lips. “Ian, stop. I can’t--” 

I don’t have to finish that sentence either; Ian retreats back immediately, the apology written on his eyes. 

“Guessing she’s not too pleased with that,” he whispers. 

“No, not really,” I scowl, closing my eyes to try to get April to calm down, but she isn’t listening to me. 

_:-Jeez, get a room,-:_ she scowls. 

:-This is technically my bedroom and technically, you’re the one who isn’t supposed to be here.-: 

_:-And technically, you stole my body in the first place. So if it’s about righteousness, you should have given it back to me already. Tell him to stay away from me.-:_

It’s impossible to talk to her, I realize now with a scowl. 

“Wanda,” Ian coaxes me, caressing my hair. 

However it hurts me, I cannot not listen to him, to his mellowed, sullen voice. Trying to take a deep breath of air, I open my eyes again. And there he is, looking down on me horrified. 

“About time,” he whispers, his voice breaking. 

His remark gets me frowning. I almost died, I need to heal--rest is compulsory, I scowl mentally. What’s the problem? Did he think I wouldn’t wake up? That’s worse than what I’d imagined I’d wake up to. I notice he’s still wearing the same black T-shirt he was wearing when we were set to leave the caves. He hasn’t changed, maybe eaten or slept, ever since--I can guess he hasn’t left my side for a minute ever since I injured him on the way out. He should at least take a second to himself, I scowl. 

“She’s. . . She’s been awake,” he explains, with a tortured voice. 

:-Will you please stop it?-: I demand. I wanted a moment with Ian, given that apparently we’re alone in the room, but I had to talk to April about this. There are some lines she should know better than to cross by now. 

_:-Never surrender, remember?-:_ she replies coldly, shrugging off my reproach. 

:-And that’s what got your species almost whipped out,-: I remark. 

_:-I don’t want to stay here,-:_ she reminds me. 

:-Thank God that’s not up to you, missus. They couldn’t let you out. How’d you escape before?-: 

_:-I didn’t escape--I’m human after all. It was all thanks to your idiotic friend Doc...-:_

:-Stop it right there,-: I order, not wanting to hear another word coming from her mind, with her voice, with her horrible unkind nuance. 

“Wanda?” Ian’s voice pulls me out of an argument I was not ken to keep up. “Please, let me untie you.” 

I bite my lower lip slowly. It’s dangerous, specially if April’s been in control of my mind while I was out of it, but it’s already too much for Ian and I. Giving up altogether, guessing they won’t let her escape this time if she manages to overpower me and Ian, I move my head up and down, still reluctantly. Ian complies only too fast, releasing my right arm. 

A moan escapes my lips as I turn my wrist in circles, allowing the blood to return to the limb. But I’m just too tired--and April takes advantage of it all in an attempt to punch Ian, as if with such a naïve and childish move she could ever escape the caves. Ian grabs my wrist instantly before I manage to touch him and instead of tying me up again, he keeps my arm down while April keeps fighting. 

“Stop, please, Wanderer. You’re not the one who wants to do this,” he whispers, locking eyes with me, a gaze that begs him to tie me up so she doesn’t hurt him through me. 

:-Please,-: I beg internally, tears in my eyes, fighting against myself.

After ten or fifteen more seconds--an eternity considering I’m the one fighting against Ian--April relaxes and so I can do the same. Pulling my arm down, Ian breathes in deeply and so do I--or at least I try, when the pain coming from my rib cage doesn’t allow me to. For some seconds, I just focus on evening my breathing in order to reduce my pain to a bare minimum. 

When I succeed, I turn towards Ian again--he’s got his head dropped, both hands grabbing my arm, holding down onto the bed, so I can’t see his face. 

“Hey,” I coax him. 

The same way I can’t not listen to him when he begs me to do something, he can’t deny anything I ask him--I’m starting to understand how did April manage to get free in the first place earlier tonight. Ian looks up at me and I realize he wanted to hide his own tears from me. I turn my arm so I can hold his wrist, remembering before I hurt myself the injuries and the other set of ropes around my chest. 

“Hey, Ian--” 

He doesn’t let me comfort him for long, swallowing back the tears. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. “D’you need Doc?” 

“No,” I reply, though my voice comes out weak and shaky. “I’ll be fine. Is he--?” 

“Stop,” he orders, his sharp voice surprising me greatly. “Let’s talk about you.” 

“Let’s, then,” I agree, a bit taken aback by the ferocity of Ian’s words. “Why am I still alive?” 

Ian freezes, completely off, his hand hanging mid-air in the midst of reaching to caress my arm--that’s the last thing he’d expected to hear me say. 

“Jesus Christ, Wanda.” 

He hides his face away from me again, now in an attempt to keep the cursing and swearing in, I think. The bed shifts to one side as he rests his fists on the mattress, leaning all his weight on it--his hands touching my hip bring me an ache I do not need or cannot feel at the moment. What I wish is making any of this easier for him, but I know I can’t. None of it is going to get better until we find a permanent solution. 

_:-And when are you planning on...-:_

:-I remember telling you to shut up,-: I interject sharply. I don’t know when did I master keeping her out of the way, but this time, I manage and her presence drifts away, giving me a bit peace of mind. 

“What’d you want us to do? Let you die?” demands Ian, his voice breaking on the last word, barely able to say it out loud. “Because I hope you’re well aware there’s no way in hell you could have pulled that off before us.” 

“Ian. Listen,” I beg. I have to make him see reason, make him understand. “April was in control, you saw it yourself. She could have hurt you. That’s why I did what I did, to protect you--” 

“We would have thought of something!” he interjects, raising his voice. “Anything other than that!” 

“How?! She was set into leaving the caves. I couldn’t talk her out of it. I couldn’t regain control of my movements, my thoughts, or my voice. What else was I supposed to do?” 

Contrary to what I thought, that this argument would linger for hours, Ian remains eerily silent, squirting at me. For a second, I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that scares me. At some degree, I can always figure out what’s going on inside Ian’s mind. 

“I knew it,” he scowls, his voice a constraint whisper. “I mean, I knew who you are, Wanda, but tonight just proved what I’ve always feared. You’d do anything--absolutely anything--for any of us!” 

I frown, beyond surprised. I twist my wrist to grab Ian’s arm, to have any kind of physical contact to prove to myself we’re good, he and I--but he’ll have none of it tonight and shrugs my hand off immediately. 

“Baby. That’s no news, you knew--” 

“Me knowing about it doesn’t diminish the fact that it’s wrong, Wanda!” he interjects in a yell, making me jump in the bed. “You cannot give your life for us!” 

I’ve never heard this side of him, this angry, this desperate, not even when he asked, begged me, to stay on Earth. In all honesty, it scares me a little--but at the same time, there’s a lot I have to say back at him.

“Ian,” I say, in that way that forces him to stop pacing and look back at me, as I stare coldly right into his eyes. “I am who I am. You know me. There’s no length I won’t go to in order to protect each and every member of this family,” I state, raising my arm to point outdoors, motioning to all those people living under our roof. “I vowed that a long time ago and my position hasn’t budged. As a Soul, it is my duty--” 

“It is not your duty,” he interjects. “You’re still trying to make it up for the bad you think your species did to our world, when in fact, you changed our whole world for the better! And if you still feel remorse for any of it, you’re in no way compelled to right things wrong!” 

“Okay, I am way in too much pain to engage again into the argument about the purpose of us Souls staying on Earth,” I declare, sending my free hand to the air to make Ian stop babbling, “my point is that as a Soul, it’s my nature to protect those closest and dearest to me. Those people, by a twisted turn of events, are all of you right now, Ian. And protecting you means doing whatever necessary not to let a Soul, or a human, that could pose a threat to any of you, into these caves. Or out of the caves,” I add, tilting my head. Knowing I’m getting out of track thanks to the pain and the medicines. “Point is, I wouldn’t have done anything different if I was put again in the same situation. It was the right thing to do--the only thing I could think of.” 

:-I hope you get the message too,-: I add sternly while Ian looks at me flabbergasted, still disbelieving each word I’m saying. :-I only want to protect my family. Whatever it takes. They’re my priority, if you insist on...-:

_:-Getting my body back, yes!-:_

:-Perfect. Now that the ground rules are established, why can’t we cooperate with each other to make this awkward and painful relationship as manageable as possible?-: 

_:-I think there’s no chance for any of that,-:_ she scowls. 

:-Oh, you’re impossible,-: I sigh in despair. 

_:-As if it were any easier talking to you.-:_

:-You’re the one who put us in danger in the first place. I forbid you from trying to chalk it up on me,-: I scowl. 

_:-You’re starting to get on my nerves.-:_

:-Line forms behind me.-:

“Well, that’s what the ropes are here for,” says Ian, still uneasy, but finding enough peace within himself to sit down on the chair by my bed’s head. “To stop you too. You will not attempt anything like that ever again. The fact that you’d go all the way for--” 

“For my family,” I finish his sentence. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect y’all.” 

“Even killing yourself?” he demands, dropping his head to touch my forehead. “You were very close to it, Wanda. Don’t do anything like that ever again. Or I’ll follow you instantly,” he begs in a whisper, by my ear. 

“Don’t talk like that!” I roar, despair growing in me as well. Sacrificing myself was meant to keep him alive, not the opposite. I try to stand from the bed, to keep him close to me so he will never try anything that stupid, but both the pain in my ribs and a warm hand on my shoulder stop me. 

“Then we are agreed,” he says, calmer than I’d feared. “No more suicide attempts.” 

“Fine,” I scowl, purposely using a mocking, childish tone to make him see the stupidity of the idea. “What do you suggest we do instead? You can't keep me here forever, hoping one of us will somehow vanish.”

“The passive-agressive way isn't my favorite method either,” confirms a third voice, one that this time, I recognize immediately. 

“Jeb?” I ask, looking around. 

From my very limited point of view and since I can't stand on my own from the bed, I only see the old man till he steps to the side of the bed, a weary smile on his lips indicating the last few hours must have been hell around here--he’d have pulled off a reassuring mask if he’d been able to, only to deceive me. But that fact’s registered only by a small part of my mind--there're a couple more people with him, surrounding the bed. 

“Doc!” I exclaim, a wave of relief invading my whole system as I see him up and down on his own. For once, I'm thankful for the ropes restraining me--upon seeing Eustace I attempted to jump off the bed and greet the man, but the pain from trying to raise makes me desist. 

My over the moon reaction gets everyone chuckling, loosening the awkward silent amongst this small reflection of our family--Mel, Jared, even Kyle is here too. The frowned eyebrows from the last man tell me he’s here on guarding duty, in case I try to attack any of them again, maybe including myself. 

“And she’s still alive,” Mel welcomes me, rolling her eyes. “For Pete’s sake, we shouldn’t have saved you. Maybe that’d taught you a lesson.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” I agree coldly. 

As Ian’s face drops again, everyone freezes, exchanging one strange look amongst them. They’d never say I’m the suicidal type. 

“Well, we were missing your voice around here, honey,” confesses Jeb, his usual self again. He pats me on the shoulder, knowing that’s a spot that won’t hurt me. 

I understand what he means--April being awake while I was out of it had to imply many swear words, blasphemies, curses and a few other things they're not used to hear coming from my mouth, something that couldn’t help the already difficult situation everyone was struggling with in the first place. But I can't discuss this right now. 

“How're you?” I demand looking straight at Doc. 

“Still a bit dizzy, nothing to worry about,” he says. Only now I notice he speaks slower and lower than anyone else, which I first thought it was his usual way of calming everyone down, but now I reflect, it might be the effect of the aerosol I used on him. 

“I’m so, so--” 

“Don’t, Wanderer,” Ian forbids me sharply. “You did nothing and hence have nothing to apologize for. I’m serious. The only one who should be apologizing is her.” 

_:-Tell him not to hold his breath,-:_ scowls April. 

:-Oh, you are going to apologize for what you did sooner or later,-: I promise, not even a threat. :-It’s going to be one of the conditions if you ever want your body back.-: 

_:-Now getting my own body comes with a contract?-:_

:-You’ve brought this upon yourself,-: I reply. :-And now stay out of my life and the conversation with my family.-: 

“And Heath and--” 

“They’re both fine,” promises Doc, a reassuring smile on his lips. “Geoffrey was actually one of the people who went looking out for you and raised the alarm--though he’s on obligatory rest for the time being. We could cure Heath within minutes thanks to your medicine and he’s resting as well. So, everything’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not,” I scowl, being completely against such statement. There are many things upside down within this community at the moment, most of them triggered because of me, directly or not. 

“We’re more concerned about you.”

“Don’t be, really,” I try to shrug it off, but it hurts and a moan escapes my mouth. Everyone moves closer, as if thinking they could do something about my pain. I stop them raising my free hand, before sending it up to my ribs, holding them in place. “If you healed me, why does it hurt this bad?” I complain, even though I know I’m in no way entitled to it. 

“I gave you No Pain, but there’s a long recovery ahead of you. You did break two of your ribs, caused a pneumothorax and were this close to puncture your heart as well.”

“Pneumo--what?”

“You punctured one of your lungs,” Mel reports in a scowl, rolling her eyes at me. 

_:-You crazy centipede.-:_

:-At your service,-: I scowl back, not letting April drag me into a fight with her. 

“Well, it’s going to be easy peasy to avoid pain whenever I breathe, then,” I try to joke, though once more I cut short my chuckle. Fortunately, everyone else fills in for me, obviously relieved to see the old me. 

Though laughter doesn’t last long in these caves, especially with an emergency at our hands. Mel’s the one to bring it up first--she’s well entitled to. 

“Seriously, Wanda, _what on Earth--_ ”

“Covered that already,” I interject, motioning for Ian, not ready for this argument again. “It’s what I thought I had to do to save you.”

“Still--”

“It was the right thing to do,” I reply, even when that answer gets groans and heads shaking all around the room, proving I’m the only one who sees it that way. “I had to protect you. I couldn’t let April hurt anyone else.” 

My eyes scan the room to prove I mean literally everyone in here, as in, the whole caves, till they fall down to Jared, whose head’s also dropped to the floor, so I can’t see the look on his face. The ache in my heart intensifies and I have a hard time breathing. I had come to terms with it since I was inserted into April’s body, but it’s a different thing when I’ve proved it to one and all, including myself. A part of me still loves Jared, maybe from the time I was inside of Mel and shared her feelings. But that is the ultimate reason why I wanted to kill myself: before I tried to hurt Jared. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had, that is clear. 

I purposely avoid looking up at him, Mel and most specially, Ian, in order not to see his face. He might have understood the reasons behind my suicide attempt hours ago, or maybe now due to my inability to lie, even without words. Either way, I don’t want to see his pain again. 

But I’m dragged towards Jared once more, whether we like it or not, for a completely different reason. 

“Hold on. You were worried about someone,” I recall his distressing words earlier, concerned for a member of our family. “If it wasn’t Heath or Geoffrey or Doc--” 

Everyone around me avoids my eyes, some shifting their weight from one foot to another. The fact that they’re reluctant to tell me the name is actually worse than giving me a straight answer--it only freaks me out. Noticing my state of mind, Doc rests a hand on my shoulder to remind me to keep cool. I listen to him, taking a deep breath. And since I’ve kept my end of the bargain, I expect an honest answer from someone, anyone. 

“You were awake?” they ask surprised--obviously they’d hoped I’d never heard that part of the argument. 

“Now and then,” I shrug it off. I can‘t really tell them I've been worried sick about it since I heard that piece of conversation. “Will you please answer the question? You felt bad for someone.”

Jared takes a very deep breath, looking down at Mel as if working up courage, then at Ian and Doc, almost as if asking permission. I frown when not even Jeb feels up to answer my question. 

“What’s going on?” I demand, my tone sharp to disguise the panic forming in the back of my mind. “She didn't k--”

I can't even pronounce the word and they don't force me to it. Ian, sitting down again by my side, grabs my hand, to calm me down. 

“Of course she didn’t,” he promises slowly. 

“But who--”

“Just try to take it easy and bear in mind that said person’s safe and sound,” begs Jeb. I feel like I should know the answer, but still I want to hear it out loud. Actually, it feels like this is a situation I’ve already lived--and they know what my answer’s going to be as well as I do. 

“Okay. . .”

“It's Jamie,” Mel finally gives in. 

Jeb's plea, however sincere, was in vain. My mind starts going crazy the moment that name is said out loud, the worse scenarios crossing my mind in seconds.

:-What the hell did you do?!-: I shriek mentally, hoping April can grasp the anger and despair that of a mother’s. And she does alright: the mild scared voice betrays her. 

_:-You know as much as I do! We never saw the child again after you sent him to the dorms!-:_

:-You psychopath! If there's even a scratch on him…-:

_:-You drama queen. I'm sure he's fine. And if you were to listen to your family…-:_

Her idea of talking to my family would be grant if I could actually attempt to it. But I'm in no condition to. From what I can hear, it's because I’m suffering a panic attack. Close to the way I reacted last time I was informed Jamie was somehow ill or injured--but this time I simply cannot handle it anymore. I’ve caused one too many misfortunes. This time I don’t need to ask Doc to sedate me. 

“Hold her down,” he orders sternly. 

I don’t notice the many hands that are pinning me on the bed, though I know they’re there. My only thought concerns the amount of times my family's been forced to do that to me in the past hours. This needs to stop.


	7. Chapter 7

Once more I can tell I wasn't out for too long. I wake up to meet the same pain spots as before, forcing me to reduce all my movements, and also I wake up to Ian's face before me--but I sense the presence of at least two more people in the room--and one impending question on my mind. 

“What happened?” I demand, my voice weak due to the drugs, trying to stand even when I know the restraints won't allow me. 

Ian squeezes my hans, reminding me to silently take it easy, for all our sakes. 

“We had to sedate you. Again. Sorry. I hope it was for the last time.”

“Me too,” I join in, my attempt at joking unsuccessful. “But--what happened to Jamie? Is he alright?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine. I remember telling you so,” says Jeb, his voice only mildly reproaching, stepping into my visual field. 

“Explain,” I order, in a tone of voice they aren’t used to hear from me. 

But that gets the job done, as I’ve learnt from Jeb’s unique techniques. Jared steps forward as well, his arms around Mel’s waist for strength, before he starts talking. 

“Jamie. . . He’s the one who raised the alarms,” he says. “After talking to you, he realized something was off. He woke Jeb and Mel up and told them to wake up everyone else and start looking for you, that he feared something bad was about to happen to you.” 

“Wasn’t he right,” scowls Mel, rolling her eyes at me one more time. 

“But, what happened to him?” I press--I can feel Jared’s not done with the story. 

“He set himself to check the entrances,” he resumes. “He found Heath and then he got out of the caves. . . Just in time to see you stabbing yourself.” 

_Oh, Jamie,_ I sigh internally, tears finally dripping from my eyes. One more check to the “Never to do again” list I’m doing internally--I’m only starting to realize some of the possible consequences my stunt could have led my family to. I’m lucky I survived. I never would have forgiven myself. And I never meant for him to saw that. If I’d succeeded. . .

“He went nuts,” comments Jeb sullenly, only adding fuel to the fire. “You can understand why letting you die didn’t even cross our minds.” 

I nod, barely hearing anything above my own sobs, my body shaking all over. Jamie would have killed someone if they’d even mentioned the possibility of not saving me. I don’t think there’s any way left for me to hate April any more than I do at this exact moment--in the few hours I’ve known her, she’s caused too much damage. 

:-You’ve scarred a little child! Who in the world does that?!-: 

_:-I--I didn’t mean to,-:_ she says, a little dumbfounded. It’s the closest thing I’ve ever heard her to being sorry, but it’s nowhere good enough. 

:-He could be traumatized because of you! You’re a complete psychopath!-: 

_:-Please, Wanderer. I...-:_

:-SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear you again! Just shut up! KEEP AWAY!-: I command and thankfully, she retreats back silently. It’s the best for the two of us: I’m up to hurting her for real, one of the few times I’ve wanted to inflict real pain on someone, but I know I’d eventually, maybe after some weeks or so, I’d regret it. 

“Is he--?” 

“He’s alright,” promises Mel, resting a hand on my arm--where I can notice many hands resting, caressing me reassuringly. “He’s sleeping in his room. He’ll be fine, Wanda. Don't blame yourself.” 

“There's that excuse again,” I groan. It’s a low blow and I notice it the moment I say it, looking at Jared, whose face drops once more, avoiding my gaze. He’s hurting as much as I am because we couldn’t prevent the kid seeing something none of us should never have been forced to perform. 

“He's just a bit shaken up, that’s all. But he’s a tough lad,” says Doc. 

How much more damage can April do to this family, because I’m simply not strong enough to put a stop to her? How much more will I be able to handle? Not much, I know that. Both mentally and physically, it’s crystal clear I’ve got no means to keep her at bay. 

Someone--I think it’s Ian, but I still have my eyes shut--starts wiping the tears off my eyes and cheeks, since I’m not able to do so myself, soothing me with caring words, promising Jamie and everyone in the caves will be alright. After some minutes of comforting words, I start calming down and my tears stop in the end, allowing me to open my eyes--and notice the severe pain in my chest. I groan escapes my lips in the form of another sob. 

“Does it hurt somewhere?” asks Doc, leaning in the first of all. 

“That’s downsizing things a lot,” I scowl. 

I try to swallow my tears and it proves to be harder than expected. Misinterpreting my problem, Doc orders for some water and someone hands him a canteen immediately, a sight that I bless as soon as I see it. 

Noticing my despair for some water, Ian, Jared and Doc have to raise my upper body so I can drink without choking. Even if they try not to move me much and to do it as gently as possible, a couple moans escape my lips unintentionally--my ribs hurt as hell, especially after I gulp at least half of the canteen. I’m almost panting by the time they let me down again. 

They give me a few minutes of silence to catch my breath and cool down--as if that were ever possible at the time given. My breathing not even just yet, I look at them all in turn, finishing with Ian, who’s still having a hard time locking eyes with me. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” I whisper, looking only at him. 

“That doesn’t quite cover it,” he scoffs, sending me a pained gaze I could have lived without. 

“No,” confirms Mel, not having a problem with throwing all the venom and her hate at me. 

“We woke up to Jamie’s yells and found you unconscious and bleeding in Jared’s arms,” Ian explains to me. “What you did was give us all a heart condition.” 

If such an exaggeration wasn’t in fact so close to the truth, I’d chuckle. But I know better and stay silent. At the end of the day, I realize that the only way out of this is through this: figuring out how to solve this puzzle. 

“Okay. What now? What’s your plan?” I ask. 

Getting to the part of actually doing something is better for everyone; I notice immediately the change in the atmosphere, for the better. Even Jeb seems up to do something, anything, besides keeping an eye on me so she doesn’t betray us again, overpower me and try to hurt our whole family. However, Ian caresses my cheek and tilts my head, his way of remarking I’m forgetting something important. But no, this time, I am not. 

“You’re in this too, Wanda,” he says softly, the boundaries still as clear: we’d never force one another to do something that we wouldn’t want to do. 

I shake my head vigorously, sinking into the bed. 

“No. Not this time. I don’t trust me. Or. . . You know, her.” 

Such a confession gets every eyebrow frowned and everyone tenses, an achievement worthy of honor, when I’d manage to loose the atmosphere a notch. Kyle even steps forward, both hands tight shut, as if preparing to fight me physically--how could he ever consider me an enemy, I don’t know. Noticing my gaze, Doc slaps Kyle on the arm and he retreats, mild remorse in his eyes. 

“Wanda--” Mel can’t find the right words and doesn’t finish her sentence. 

“But. . . You’re you,” replies Ian, almost a whimper. 

“And what was that with Doc, Geoffrey, Heath, Jamie and Jared? She was awake while I was out of it.” I demand, tilting my head to point at his brother, knowing the events I’ve mentioned are all too recent in their minds. “She can overpower me. Don’t doubt that for a minute.” 

“You’re in control now,” remarks Mel. 

“I might lose it at any time,” I say, preparing them for the worst, because it can still happen. “She’s stronger than me--she’s learnt her way around. If I pass out--” 

“That’s why the restrains are there,” Jeb interjects. “She can gain control if she wants to, but she’s not getting away again.” 

The mention of the restrains brings back the pain from my wrists and ankles--where there must be already severe burns on my skin. But I nod, knowing it’s the best for everyone, however painful it is at the same time. 

“I remember being this restraint once before,” I remark coldly. “How’d she escaped earlier?” 

It’s the wrong question and I know it the same minute I’ve asked it--seeing Doc’s tortured face is the absolute worse, given the many looks of mild reproach he gets from those around him. I want to take back the words when the man starts speaking. 

“It was all my fault.” 

“Doc, don’t say--” 

“She. . . I thought it was you,” he explains, torture reflected in his voice. “She complained about the ropes in the middle of the night and I. . . Untied one of your hands, let you eat and drink some water. It made it a little bit better.” 

My instinct reaction would be to reach a hand for Doc’s, but since I can’t, I’m not sure I can comfort him with my words. Remorse is difficult to alleviate--especially when his misjudged actions led to so many injured people. 

“Anyone would have done the same,” says Mel. She looks as devastated as Doc himself; if she’d been the one present when April had made those complaints, she’d have untied me as well without even blinking. Oh, she knows how to play with our feelings. 

“Yes, but don’t do it again,” I warn. “Spread the word. No matter what you hear from me, no matter what I bargain you with--Don’t listen to me. You cannot let her escape again. There’s no telling what she’ll do, or what I’ll do.” 

Everyone around me shivers at those words: I’ve attempted two suicides, close to being successful, in the brief time I’ve been living in these caves, when I didn’t try anything like it back when I thought I’d be tortured. The possible scenarios aren’t something pleasant to think about--and if at all possible, it’s best for everyone to avoid being put in such a crossroad again. 

“Let’s back up, people,” says Jeb, focusing everyone in what we can do next, instead of the worse case scenarios. “Wanda, for now we’re waiting for Denny and Burns. They’ll be here in just a few more hours.” 

I give them some long seconds, waiting for the punch line. When no-one says anything, I realize they’re serious, that’s the plan they’ve prepared. Which is the last thing I would have thought of. 

“What?” I demand. “Why in the world--” 

Ian squeezes my shoulder, reminding me to stay down on the bed, no matter how stupid the things they say are. 

“There are three human rebel cells that depend on them. They cannot come by here all of a sudden because they think I need them. Which I don’t,” I reply, trying to reason with the old man with the best arguments I’ve got--the need for all those humans to have at least a Soul by their side, so they can buy them, I don’t know, basic hygiene products, food and clothes. 

“They volunteered,” Jeb informs me. 

“Of course they did,” I scowl; couldn’t have expected anything else coming from Souls, when one of our own is in any kind of trouble. “Well, call them again and tell them not to come--we can solve this by ourselves.” 

“We told them you’d say that and they disagreed,” replies Jeb. “Look, the whole plan isn’t just inviting them to tea and jam. We’re going to get you another body.” 

This distracts me from my dazzlement and anger and I wait for April’s excited stir. 

“By your own rules, we cannot do that without a Soul joining us,” proceeds Jeb, now that he’s got my full attention without complains. “That’s why we asked an available Soul’s help.” 

Well, that make sense. And it makes it easier for me to allow Burns and Denny to be away from their respective human cells for however long this task takes my family--can’t really stay mad at them for giving a hand. It’s the best plan we’ve got; hell, it was the idea I had in mind since the beginning. But there is still a major flaw I hadn’t considered. 

“Hold on. What’s the idea here?” I demand. “You start kidnapping Hosts randomly and extract all of those Souls, hoping one human won’t wake up and you can insert me inside of them? How much time are you planning on investing in this trial and error?” 

The words hurt them more than they could tell, but I can read their faces. I’ve just blown in a couple of sentences the best and most agreed plan they could come up with throughout all the time I was out of it. What’re we supposed to do now? 

“However long it takes,” replies Mel sullenly through clenched teeth. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” scowls Jared, in a stern voice that almost scares me. 

“If it keeps you safe, we’re all up to it,” promises Ian, caressing my cheek, his tone a bit softer. 

“But--what if by doing all this, a Seeker notices you? That’d mean you’d endanger three human rebel cells.” 

“Please, we’re not about to drop by the nearest city and kidnap two dozen Souls at a time,” scoffs Jared, rolling his eyes. “We’re a bit smarter than that, believe it or not.” 

“Two dozen Souls?” I shriek. 

Jared sighs deeply, realizing his mistake even before Mel punches him in the stomach or Ian does the same against his arm, causing Jared to let out a low moan--while he uses the other hand to soothe me, caressing the side of my face. 

“It was just a wild estimate,” promises Jared. 

I turn towards Jeb, who, judging by his face, was expecting this kind of opposition from me; maybe Mel, Ian or any other vocal opponent has already defended me in that argument. Even so, he allows me to express my concerns out loud. 

“Jeb, you cannot accommodate here twenty-four more people. If that’s what needs to be done for me to get another body--” 

“Wanda, that’s also why both Denny and Burns are coming,” he explains calmly. “Every human we manage to save will be send off to the mountains at the Cleveland National Park or up to the Lake Henshaw. Either way, they’ll be comfortable--and they’ll just be happy to be alive, really.” 

I can’t discuss that. We haven’t had a single human who wasn’t appreciative of our saving them after extracting the Soul out of their system; and even when we told them they had to relocate, we haven’t confronted more than two or three arguments and only because the humans were scared stiff about something going wrong and being caught again. As far as we know, none accident has ever occurred under our watch and every human is living in hiding, safe and sound. 

“Plus, even if it takes us a few tries, that’ll mean more humans we manage to save,” Doc points out, giving the ultimate argument to their defense, one that I cannot reply to. 

“And I’ll say one more thing,” adds Jeb, tilting his head at me. 

He doesn’t need to finish that sentence; I sigh deeply, showing my family I’m finally giving up. No need to argue when the plan’s set in all their minds. 

“Your house, your rules,” I finish for him, tired of the song. 

He nods appreciatively, praising that we’re all at the same page. Even if they hadn’t managed to convince me in favor of their idea, they’d have done it either way, because Jeb can get away with practically anything using that pet phrase. 

“Glad we sorted that out,” Jeb chuckles, since he never gave me a choice to start with. “Now, I suggest we all rest until Denny and Burns get here--it’s the best for everyone.” 

Some take his words correctly like an order: Jared turns around and disappears, though leaving Mel behind; Doc also steps away and so does Sunny, almost dragging Kyle with her, whose gaze I feel on my skin for an awful amount of time. 

“What’s his problem?” I ask Ian in a whisper when I know for sure Kyle’s left the room. 

“Don’t mind him,” replies Ian, shrugging it off. “He’s always pissed off at someone.” 

I almost shiver--and I do well in hiding it from Ian and Mel, the time when Kyle hated my guts and actually attempted to kill me off still painfully recent somewhere in my mind. Even when we’ve long come to terms, Kyle and I, and he seems a bit more emotionally mature, I don’t like knowing I’m the target of his bad temper. 

“What’d I do?” 

Jeb interjects before anyone says a word--but this time, he’s not keen to give me an answer instead of Ian. 

“Now, don’t stall, Ian,” he says, dragging him out of the bedroom. 

“Hey!” yells the man, outraged that he should be carried away for any reason. “I technically sleep here too.” 

I didn’t think they’d put me in my own bedroom--to many painful memories to last a lifetime. 

“No, tonight you don’t. Tonight you’ll have the pleasure to share my bedroom.” 

That gets Ian to burst out laughing--a sound I haven’t heard in what feels like ages, that loosens the knot in my heart a bit. 

“I’ll take the floor of my own bedroom, thanks.”

“Sadly for you, that is not an option, kiddo,” replies Jeb, grabbing Ian by the arm. “Come on, off you go.” 

“No--Jeb,” begs Ian, trying to stay by the bed, seeing he’s been dragging away from his own bedroom, looking back at me over his shoulder. “Please, man--”

“Night,” I bid farewell, to make it any easier for him and for me. 

Only Mel and Doc are left in the bedroom. Before I have to say one more word, however, Mel nods at me, motioning towards Ian, answering my silent question. Yes, she’ll look after the man, see that he tries to sleep until Burns and Denny get here, since it’s something I cannot do at the moment. I thank her with a brief smile and she leaves, patting Doc on the shoulder on her way out. 

The man rests his fists on the bed, looking down on me with a conflicted gaze. 

“D’you want more morphine?” he asks. It’d be good for my pain, but he also knows how badly I feel afterwards. 

“No, thank you, Doc--I’ll sleep alright,” I promise, flashing a sincere smile. “Only. . .” 

“Don't worry, I won’t untie you this time,” he swears, raising his right arm. 

I nod, a bit more at ease. I know Doc’s not the kind of man to make the same mistake twice, but I had to make sure, just in case, so I can go try to sleep for real. Knowing that, should April regain control again, no-one will listen to her this time, whether she pleads and plays with our feelings, or she curses everyone at sight. 

:-Hope we both can catch some sleep, how ‘bout that?-: I suggest, drifting off already. :-And like we said, when we wake up we’ll be starting the operation of getting a new body for me. Hope you’re happy and you’re working on those apologies already.-: 

I don’t get an answer from April, though I assume I can’t hear it because I’m already too out of it, blessing some peace and quiet, finally. What my mind doesn’t register is that she hasn’t said a word in an awful amount of time, even when the conversation we were holding was of great interest to her and earlier, she would have put in a word at any chance she got.


	8. Chapter 8

I don’t realize she’s gone till hours later. 

I’m too at ease when I wake up, I realize with a jolt. Most people would appreciate the peace and quiet--I acknowledge that being able to wake up to a dark, restful and silent bedroom has to be a dream of some sorts. 

But not for me, since I was kind of aware that I was supposed to face a heated and important conversation with my family, for one, and also with April, and I expected everyone to be eager for me to join in and give a hand out with the planning. 

That’s the first sign I’ve got something’s really wrong--not feeling anymore April’s presence in my mind, her nervousness, her excitement, her bad temper, all were starting to become a part of my own already, and now that they’re gone all of a sudden, I somehow miss them, even when I didn’t ask for them in the first place and I wished for them to go away from the same minute she came into herself. 

Trying not to panic, ‘cause that won’t do with my precarious current state of mind, I poke around, attempting the mental equivalent of looking all around a room, opening cupboards, chest drawers, looking behind the desks and cushions, searching absolutely everywhere. She doesn’t get to do this. I’m not letting her get away with this. 

I freak out, despite my best efforts. Why would she disappear now, all of a sudden, when we finally agreed to heed her demands, whatever the reason behind it? How come she gets to decide when to appear and when to vanish? 

:-Oh, no. You don’t get to pull this on me now. Not after everything you did. . . _Come back!_ -: I order in a mental shriek. 

I’m not one who usually hurts people--I’m against all kinds of violence. But tonight I’ve hurt three, or rather five, members of my family, directly, and some would argue I’ve hurt all of our family emotionally. Now, I’ve managed to shut away April too. Am I really a Soul? I haven’t considered this question in a long time but it strikes me all over again--I left the Soul community a long ago and apparently, lost my way. I’m not sure I’m even fit to be considered a human being either. 

Knowing none of this is helpful to either one of us, I try taking a deep breath, in spite of the pain from my ribs. I swallow the tears before I open my eyes, to a dark-pitched ceiling. I focus on my exact words so my voice won’t break in the midst of my sentence. 

“Somebody there?” I ask. 

I sense movement immediately, someone standing abruptly. I’m sorry I disrupted however was sleeping in the room, but I don’t find the words to apologize when Doc comes to my side, putting his glasses on. 

“Wanderer,” he greets in a deep sigh of relief, and I wonder if somehow, April woke up again while I was out of it. “You OK?” 

My initial goal was to shrug it off, not raising all the alarms again. However, I don’t get to play Jeb’s perfected poker face--I crumble the moment the first lie tries to escape my lips. I cannot do it anymore. 

“I’m honestly not,” I confess, my voice breaking. 

“Oh, God,” whispers Doc. 

Even when I didn’t mean to, he grasps my panic and freaks out in turn. A bit clumsy, trying to move as quickly as humanly possible when he’s still half asleep, he turns on the lamp on my nightstand, finding out the tears flowing from my eyes, which only creates a tight knot in his throat. His voice shakes as he offers all his help to me, once more. 

“What can I do? Where does it hurt?” 

“Doc, it’s not. . . I’m not--I’m--”

I can’t tell him either that my injuries aren’t painful, ‘cause that’d be yet another lie and I can’t take it anymore. I’m done downsizing things, trying to be tough, something that I now know am not. I can’t pull it off still, not even for my family. 

“You’re--what?” he demands. 

“I’m--I’m alone, Doc. Completely alone.” 

“No, you’re not,” he scoffs, resting a hand on my shoulder. He’d hug me if he didn’t know such a move would hurt me like hell, I know that--he doesn’t want me thinking I’m by myself in the midst of my home, where my family lies. But he’s missing the whole point. 

“Doc, listen to me,” I order, pushing him away. “I’m alone. There’s no-one here with me. I’m on my own.” 

He understand after two full seconds. He freezes and releases me slowly, to stare at me right in the eye, making sure I’m not bluffing or anything. How could I joke about something like this? April’s been giving us all hell and now she vanishes. That’s not fair. 

“Oh,” is the only answer he manages to utter, because honestly, what else is there to say? “Are--Are you sure?” 

“It’s difficult to miss her when she’s here,” I try to joke, but the only thing that comes out are more tears. “She’s gone, Doc.” 

“For how long?” 

I shrug--a wrong move, as far as my ribs tell me. 

“Can’t really tell. I’ve just realized.” 

“H--How? She appeared out of nowhere and now--” 

“Wish I could answer that one, Doc. I honestly don’t know anything. All I can say for now is that she’s not here.” 

He ponders my words for a long minute, not breaking eye contact with me, maybe trying to figure out what in the world is going on here. He’ll be lucky if he does, since I’m completely clueless and can’t explain it myself. In the end, it seems like he gives up on giving it a rational explanation--when the gravity of what I’ve just told him sinks in. I can see it in his face, the exact moment his cells raise the alarms on his brain and he starts freaking out too. 

However, he can pull off the poker face much better than me. And maybe because of experience, act it off better than I’ll ever be able to. 

“Okay, calm down. Hold on a minute. I think that’s Jeb,” he says, as a few stepfoots are coming our way. 

Without saying goodbye, Doc hits the door open to meet Jeb before he gets to the bedroom. It’s better this way--I don’t want anyone to see me cry and I don’t want to hear their conversation. Sadly, I don’t get granted my second wish. I can perfectly hear Doc reporting the situation to Jeb and whoever else is with him, plus their stunned reaction, hushed immediately by Doc, out of consideration for me. I don’t need to be told off, he says. But actually, that’s exactly what I deserve. I’ve managed to kill a human, all on my own. If we hold a tribunal over this instance, I’ll be kicked off the caves permanently--and I won’t be arguing the ruling. 

After a few more seconds, Jeb’s the first one to step into the room, looking a bit flustered and dazzled, but he managed to pull off his perfect poker face in contrast with my tears. Behind him, Denny holds the door open for Doc and then meets me by the bed. He’s still wearing a dusty and filthy black jacket, meaning he’s come straight to the dorms, without taking a minute to stop by the kitchens to hydrate and eat something--which only makes me feel a little bit worse. I’ve mobilized everyone in order to save April and now she’s gone. 

“Hello,” I greet, my voice breaking. 

“How’re you doing?” he asks softly, knowing it’s the wrong question in all the wrong senses. 

“Do I seriously have to answer that?” I weep. 

Chuckling under his breath, Denny takes my hand, caressing my hair with his free hand. His is not the touch I crave for or need, but either way it’s nice to know I’m comforted by someone, all things I’ve done considered. 

“Hear you want to kick me out of here so soon ‘cause I’m useless?” says Denny, tilting his head. 

“No,” I reply flatly. “You know I’d never--”

Following a signal from Doc I can’t see, Denny hushes me before I freak out. 

“Calm down. I do know that. But for now there’s other things to worry about.” 

“Don’t want to be rude, but--” 

I finish my sentence not looking at Denny, but beyond him, at Jeb, standing in the middle of the dorm, who should have realized what I’d ask. 

“I could really use Mel’s help here.” 

Maybe he had predicted what I’d say, because he’s got an answer on his lips before I even finished the request. 

“Afraid can’t do that. . .” 

“Why’s that?” I demand. I need her. I don’t want to phrase it like that, but that’s the truth. She and I went through something very similar to this and came out alive; if someone can help, that’s Mel. 

“She went out on a raid,” explains Jeb, cautiously, trying not to set me off again. 

“What?” I shriek. 

Denny holds me down by the shoulder before I try to leave the bed, reminding me to take it easy.

“When? How? Who--”

“Accompanied by Burns, don’t you worry--we don’t have a Soul sitting on his hands around here,” explains Jeb slowly, opposite to my current state of mind, maybe in an attempt to force me to calm down. “They’ll be alright, as you know. But they had to go out and get another body.”

“Right when it’s no longer necessary,” I scowl, sinking into the bed, sending a hand up to my forehead, maybe in an unconscious attempt to hide myself from everyone and everything. 

“Don’t say that,” forbids Denny, a bit sharper than one’d expect from a Soul. “We’re going to solve this out, aren’t we, Wanderer?” 

His idea is grant, though naïve, and his excitement somehow flows into me even if I’m feeling nothing but. He’s right, however--we have to try. For April’s sake. No matter what unforgivable things she’s done to our family, I cannot allow her to vanish. I won’t be responsible for another death in the family. 

“Come on,” he encourages me, taking my hand. “She was there not long ago. She can’t have gone far. Try talking to her.” 

I nod, acknowledging those are simple enough tasks to start with. Forgetting about our audience--though Jeb motions for Doc to leave the dorms--and about the pain in my chest, that means nothing right now, I take a very deep breath and close my eyes, forcing my mind to find that annoying, painful presence that until now was nothing but a bother. 

:-April? You there? Can you hear me?-: I tentatively ask, feeling just about stupid. Denny helps me not to give up, holding my hand tight, still talking even if I don’t answer. 

“That’s right. Try to reconnect with her. Poke around, look for her. She’s somewhere in there.” 

It’s easier to say so than to believe it, I scowl mentally, but still, I keep on talking to someone who’s just not there, trying to coax her out. Why is it that you only want someone, or something, when they’re not there anymore? Though this time I don’t exactly miss April, I’d just feel horrible if she vanished because of me--she’s not Mel. 

:-Come on, April. Don't be any more inhuman than you've already been. Don't do this to yourself. You never wanted to die. _Come back, goddammit!_ -:

“It's OK, calm down,” Denny reminds me oftentimes, when I can't anymore and slam my fists on the bed, or start cursing under my breath. He answers by squeezing my shoulders, forcing my hands open or freshen my sweaty forehead and neck with a napkin and water. 

But despite both our efforts, couple hours later I realize this is useless. Words aren't working with April any better than they did earlier. 

Denny notices the exact moment I give up, because he stops encouraging and soothing me with words. Still caressing my arm, to ease the remorse, he awaits in silence until I open my eyes, the final sign of surrender. 

“She's not here. I can't find her.”

His caresses speed up, which only adds to my nervousness instead of soothing me. 

“I've lost her,” I whimper. 

As tears fill my eyes, I realize I'm just lucky it's just Denny here with me; he's a soul, too kind-hearted to beliterate me for killing off a human. Had it been anyone else here, even Ian, their response wouldn't have been so calm. 

“Wanderer--”

Denny doesn't know what else to say, but he's not forced to it. Someone caresses my hair softly and kisses my head--only then do I realize Ian's been sitting on the head of the bed probably minutes after this experiment started. He looks anguished and concerned, and I think I can tell why. 

“Don’t fret. There're still some ways to work this out.”

“Ian,” I whimper, but I fall silent, 'cause I don't know how to say no to him. 

“Denny, can you give us the room for a minute, please?” begs Ian. 

“Sure,” says the man. 

He flashes a radiant smile, pats me on the hand, offers his chair to Ian and leaves the dorms. I look up at Ian uneasy and know his plans before he moves one inch. 

“Ian,” I repeat. I never, ever, refuse a kiss from him. This life's too short. One wrong move and we can all be dead. But this kiss, this time, could be almost as devastating for the two of us. 

He doesn't listen to me; he grabs both sides of my head and leans in very slowly, not breaking eye contact with me till the very last second. Like the first time I used Ian as a rat lab for something like this, his first kiss is all but cautious, weary, trying not to hurt me. The difference between now and then is that I've learnt what I want and, experiment or not, I respond to his touch, forcing him deeper, longer. Some seconds later he's shifting to get a spot on the bed, his erection pressing against my leg only causing me to use my only free hand to pull his hair and retain him where he is. 

For a moment, I'm lost. For a moment, everything's back to normal. I don't feel the pain from my stab wounds nor the ropes restraining me. There's only Ian and me, as it should be, as we wanted it to be, before. . . 

The amount of time it takes me to remember April is embarrassing. I hope she never knows or else she'll kill me without hesitation. 

“Ian,” I gasp through his lips, though I'm not sure how open he is to talking at the moment, so I try to push him away. “Ian. I feel nothing.” 

His answer isn’t what I’d expected; he breaks the kiss and pulls away slowly, sitting down on the chair--chuckling. As he grabs both my hands in his, I take my time trying to figure out if he’s being sarcastic or if he’s lost his mind, but he looks nothing but. 

“That’s not what a man wants to hear when kissing the woman he loves,” he laughs. 

“Ian!” I exclaim, angrier this time. He knows what I meant. I felt everything when he kissed me, it was just too intense, I could barely hold myself. . . He knows what his touch does to me. 

“Guess we didn’t spook her enough, huh?” asks him. 

“Guess she didn’t have that much time to know you and get to hate you,” I reckon, since that’s what made Mel so angry at Ian and me when I was inside of her. 

We both know what else could help on this particular front, but by a silent agreement, we don’t mention it out loud. It’d be too painful. Later on I’d find out that Mel left the caves with Jared, something I could have guessed, something Ian’s completely aware of. Things are still too recent for Ian to even mention his name out loud--he’s figured out why I wanted to kill myself. 

“What now?” I ask, a bit desperate. 

“I don’t really know,” confesses Ian, shrugging his shoulders. 

Even when he’s confessed being out of ideas, he leans forward and locks eyes--for a second I fear if he’s about to kiss me again, but it’s not me who he addresses this time. 

“April? Is that your name? April?” he starts, speaking directly to the other me. “Can you hear me? I’m Ian O’Shea, one of the humans who lives in these caves--Wanda certainly talked to you about me. You’re going to love it here in the caves; it’ll be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before--” 

Clutching Ian’s hand, I get comfortable in the bed. I see his goal: he’ll just keep talking for hours straight, if that’s necessary, without waiting for a real reply, at least none coming from me. I don’t know if this is going to work out, but I’m glad I don’t have to do anything and let Ian take the reigns, letting his babble be the only thing in my mind, almost taking over Jamie’s usual role at dinnertme. 

Now and then, when my mind is up to the challenge, I try to reconnect myself with April, deep down knowing that would be more useful than what Ian’s doing at the moment, following the indications Denny gave me earlier. All to no avail. 

We give up who knows how much later, when Jeb, Doc and Denny come into the room. I nod at them, not being able to do anything else, but Ian simply raises his head from the spot he’d settle in on my side on the bed, rubbing his eyes. He isn’t the only one tired of the monologue, Jeb, Denny and Doc also look exhausted, however they may try to hide it--for some reason I can picture the three of them just waiting outside in the hall, praying that this method works as much as we did. 

“Here. You must be thirsty,” says Doc, handing Ian a canteen. 

He laughs, acknowledging the sarcastic comment as the truth, and takes a long sip while everyone else stares, including me. I want to drink too, it’s been hours since I took any liquids, but somehow I don’t feel dehydrated either. Doc notices my stare and smiles at me. 

“You doing OK, Wanda?” he asks politely. 

“Yeah, Doc, all’s good. I think,” I say, still staring at the canteen. 

“Oh, that,” says Doc, following my gaze. “I didn’t know for how long you’d be out, so I took some precautions.” 

I turn my head towards the spot the man’s pointing at, to the IV line that only now I realize it’s stuck deep inside my inner arm, into my vein. I still don’t like needles but I force to show gratitude towards Doc; he was thinking about my well-being after all. 

“Guess it’s my turn to explain my whole life?” asks Jeb, tapping on Ian’s shoulder so he allows him to replace his shoes. 

“No,” I stop him. He looks way too eager to torture me for hours on end with his talking--and it’s something I’d like to avoid at the moment, if at all possible. “Well, yeah, but. . . There’s this thing we could try. If you’re up to it.” 

“Of course, honey,” grants Jeb, hiding his disappointment pretty well, even managing to pull off a convincing face in front of me. 

“You see, she told me about this line, from a poem or a song. . . It rang a bell,” I say, slowly, low, feeling the tiny bit ashamed--it could be worthless. 

“What is it?” asks Ian, either intrigued or willing to help in any way he can. 

“ _Lend me your ears._ Yeah, sorry, that’s all I’ve got,” my last words are nothing but an apologetic whisper--I’ve seen in all their faces that line means nothing to them. It was a long shot to start with, maybe April even made it up. 

“No, it _does_ ring a bell,” stops Ian, his eyes not seeing me, but focused on something else. “A poem, I think. By one brit writer, who was it?” he asks, half to himself, half to Doc and Jeb, waiting for their help. “Byron?” 

“Milton? Shakespeare?” provides Doc, him a bit lost also. 

“Shakespeare!” exclaims Ian, triumphant. “Yeah, yeah, yeah--the line didn’t go with something like ‘Friends and family, lend me your ears’?”

“‘Friends and Greek’, I think,” replies Doc, turning towards Ian as the two get involved in their feedback to each other. “ _Julius Caesar_ , wasn’t it? Then it was--” 

“Friends and Romans,” Ian mends immediately, cutting off Doc. 

“Friends, Romans, countrymen,” Doc finishes. 

“‘Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears’!” exclaim the two men finally, at the same time, before bursting out laughing--the result of the excitement pouring out after remembering something so well buried so long ago. 

“Was that it?” asks Doc, the broad smile still on his lips. 

“Can’t tell,” I reply, shy, shaking my head. “It doesn’t bring a bell. Sorry,” I whisper, seeing that I’ve almost taken the joy out of two boys. “It was worth a try. Settle in, Jeb. I still don’t know what your grandfather used to do on Sunday afternoons after mass,” I invite him. 

“Of course that didn’t ring a bell,” scowls Jeb under his breath and we all turn towards him, who’s got his eyebrows frowned in frustration and anger. “Seriously, Ian, what kind of school did you go to that you learnt about poetry from the 16th century but were completely oblivious to pop culture?” 

“What do you mean?” demands Ian. 

“I think we do know what does line come from, don’t we?” 

“For real?” 

“Please. If my guess is correct, it goes like this.” 

Jeb clears his throat, enjoying the attention, the hint of a playful smile on his lips, and then does something I’d never heard him do: he starts singing. Joyfully. Without a care. Even if I don’t know the song, I can tell he doesn’t hit the right notes, and his old, hoarse voice gives a slow, blue innuendo to what I gather has to be a happy song. But that doesn’t stop the man; and two sentences into the song, _“What would you think if I sang out of tune?/Would you stand up and walk out on me?”_ the two other men join in, including Ian, catching up fast to a song that was well-known. I’d like to learn it too: it suits this family, a song concerning a group of friends enjoying their time together. 

For some seconds as they keep on singing, I believe I’m dreaming: never had I ever expected to see these three men singing out of tune, their arms linked by the elbows, shifting from one side to the other, almost serenating me--in my honor. Feels wrong to be enjoying this. But I’m not alone on my glee: when the three men finish the song, extending the last sentence for way too long, they next burst out laughing after sharing one brief look amongst them--and I’m smiling with them too. I must remember buying some records or videotapes, whatever they’re selling now, on our next raid; I’ve never listened to music in these caves and it should be. 

“Told you--you had to remember The Beatles,” says Jeb between breaths, patting Ian on the shoulders. 

“Took me a moment, but, yeah, I knew them,” reckons Ian. 

“I’d have thought your parents gave you a very poor education if you didn’t,” scowls Jeb. 

“Well, it has been a while, Jeb--even for me,” says Doc, in an attempt to save Ian’s ass, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. 

The door opens--the pool of family members who’d do so without knocking is quite small--and Sharon’s head pops out from the corridor, her face that of horror and bewilderement, staring at us all in turn, the way she looks at her husband as if she didn’t even know him. 

“May I know what in the world was that noise just then?” 

“The Beatles,” Jeb says. 

“That was you singing?” scowls Sharon. “Jesus. Thought someone was dying.” 

“Not quite,” promises Doc. 

“Give us a heads-up next time. Some wanted to start packing again.” 

“Packing?” I repeat, my voice a high-pitched shriek in spite of the cheerful atmosphere that hovered the room a second ago. “Again? _As in leaving?_ Why? What in the world happened? Are you all right?" 

Everyone in the room rolls their eyes--they’d tried to hide this from me. Even Sharon looks a bit ashamed, knowing she’s screwed things, but doesn’t apologize, nor vanishes before the reproach get to her, as a normal person would do. 

“Nicely done, Sharon,” scowls Doc. “Can you wait outside, please?” 

“No,” she replies, holding open the door her husband attempted to shut. “I assume that drowning under water you called singing had a purpose, besides giving us all a heart attack?” she asks, looking straight at me. “Did it work?” 

It’s a question that should have been asked long ago, we all realize in a bit of shame and regret, instead of laughing and rejoicing the moment, as the three men turn around towards me once more and I sink a bit more into my bed, wishing I could disappear somehow. 

“Afraid not,” I answer finally, my voice a whisper. “Appreciate the song, though.” 

“Anytime,” Jeb winks at me. “We’ll leave ya to it, then.” 

His smile never vanishing, he turns around and leaves the room still whistling the song they’ve just sung; Doc drags Sharon out of the room, followed by Denny after he dedicates a warm squeeze to my shoulder. By Jeb’s order he’s given Ian the not-so-easy task of explaining to me, and calm me, the whole packing thing Sharon mentioned. 

He doesn’t look that much concerned, a fact that soothes me beyond his words, as he settles on the stool beside me. 

“Some of the family members lost their minds,” he shrugs it off. “After you attacked--after April attacked Geoffrey, Doc and Wes--some thought we needed to relocate.” 

“Leaving me behind, tied up to a chair?” I ask feebly. 

“It was momentary,” he promises me quickly, resting a hand on my cheek. “They wouldn’t have. Saw reason after we talked to them, calmly.” 

“Threatened them. With Jeb’s help,” I translate, my voice even despite my fear. 

“Can’t say that’s not true,” he confesses under his breath, looking the right amount guilty to make me feel a little bit better. “It’s been a highly productive couple of days for all the family, concerning the house chores.” 

“They must hate me right now,” I scowl. I can imagine the kind of concentration camp the caves have turned into thanks to Jeb’s dictatorship. 

“You know that’s not true.” 

“Though it worked out quite nicely for you and Doc, right? Staying by my side all the time. . .” 

He grasps my need for feeble mocking and follows my suit, relaxing us both to fall into old habits. 

“Hey, let me tell you, I did a stellar job looking after you,” he chuckles. 

“I’ll bet,” I acknowledge, grabbing his hand. 

All of a sudden I realize Doc and the others aren’t too far away from the bedroom and despite the proximity, they don’t care discussing the situation--me--by my room’s door. I hear my name and April’s a couple of times, reason why I shrink and sink into the bed, in spite of Ian’s hand holding me tight. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Don’t know,” Ian says, looking quite uninterested about it. 

His disposition changes after one stern look, a technique I’ve mastered thanks to Mel and the months amongst a human family. 

“I’ll go find out,” he decides, kissing me softly on the nose before standing. 

“And then come back here and tell me,” I order, knowing the last task maybe wasn’t on his mind to begin with, perhaps for some naïve goal of not burdening me. He nods at my soft although unavoidable command and leaves. 

In the meantime, I try once more to connect with April by ordering her, threatening her even, to talk back. I could have predicted the results I’ve got. 

“Are you crazy?!” Ian’s outbursts makes me jump on the bed and forget all about April--he’d been able to keep his temper for the time being with this whole situation, till now. 

“Ian, calm down,” suggests Doc. “Keep your voice down.” 

“Do you realize what your crazy wife--” 

“Watch it,” warn two voices sternly, one of Doc’s, one of Sharon’s. 

“--suggested?” finishes Ian, the venom spitting from his usual amiable voice scarying me further. 

“I heard it, Ian--I was right here.” 

“And you didn’t say no right from the very first second?!” 

“I’d say it’s not exactly up to me.” 

“Well, it’s not up to Wanda either, Doc! This could hurt her--” 

As the four of them keep discussing whatever the subject is in front of my bedroom, I can’t believe they’re keeping me out of this conversation. Sure, I didn’t want to be involved in the planning, but they know I’m up to anything they might come up with. If it can hurt me, I should be the one to decide. 

“Hey!” I shout, but my voice is weak. I clear my throat and try a few more times. “Hey! Guys? Hello? Ian!” 

Finally, his name does the job; he cannot not listen to me anymore than I can. He steps into the room hurriedly, too fast to erase the deep frown between his eyes, followed by everyone else, including Denny and Sharon. Their looks pretty much tell me where they stand on the suggestion, by which telling me where I stand: Ian looks outraged and in denial, Jeb uneasy, Denny confused, Doc undecided and SHaron, her usual self--mostly angry. 

“Okay, spill it out,” I demand. 

Sharon starts talking immediately, without any consideration regarding my state--which for once, I appreciate. 

“I just pointed out that all this talking and singing translates into wasted time that concerns all of our family, while the others are risking their necks for a human that’s not even here anymore. 

“Thanks for the briefing,” I scowl. “Do you have a real suggestion to wake her or are you here only to piss me off?” 

Ian comes to stand by my side and holds my hand, a gesture meant to calm me down, but deep down I know he’s quite proud of me, that I could stand up for myself, even if it’s only due to exhaustion and won’t be happening again. 

“That’s usually my everyday job,” Sharon shrugs it off, unaware of my abnormal remark. “But there is something I suggested.” 

“Well, spill it out!” I rush her when she becomes quiet because of a look from Jeb and Ian. 

“It’s not really necessary--” But Sharon doesn’t think the same as him. 

“Ian, for Pete’s sake, how successful has everything else been?” demands her coldly. 

“Maybe we don’t have to bring her back,” suggests Ian, already knowing my answer. 

“Out of the question,” I state firmly, certain that if I can stand up to Sharon, I can hold my ground against Ian too. “No more dead, human or Soul. If not, why in the world is Mel out there? Should we call them to just bring a CD copy of the Beatles?” 

“That is not a bad idea.” 

“I’m serious here, Jeb,” I scowl. 

“I know, honey,” he eases me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “OK, I guess it’s up to whoever came up with the idea to explain it now,” he says, looking straight at Sharon. 

She steps closer and sentences her suggestion in the form of the simplest of questions, one that I should have considered a long time ago. 

“Well, what is the one thing that girl’s wanted most since she woke up?” 

In spite of phrasing it in a funny way, I understand her idea immediately. Before anyone says a single word, in favor or against the idea, I’m already planning it on my mind, even though I did say I shouldn’t have any saying on the plan. But there are many things to be considered if I’m about to let them not only untie me, but carry me to the caves’ exit and perform an on-field experiment with April, who could wake up at any time. 

My silence is lingering for too long--they want to know my opinion. Jeb clears his throat, forcing me to come back to the now and here. 

“So, what do you say? Too crazy idea?” 

I can’t help but roll my eyes at him and tilt my head, hoping that’s as good an answer to everyone, ‘cause they should have predicted it from the moment Sharon suggested whatever idea they were discussing. And although he knew what I’d say, Ian can’t handle it--he steps away and judging by the noises, he drops on his own bed. But his glare, I still notice it, quite clearly, maybe begging me to reconsider. 

Denny rests on my bed, distracting me from Ian, forcing to lock eyes. 

“We do need a verbal answer,” he raises his eyebrows. 

It’s nothing but a formality, but I agree-whatever should make this easier for them, since my mind’s set. 

“Yes, I’m willing to try it. Untie me, we should be on our way already.”


	9. Chapter 9

I think I can tell what humans felt the first time a Soul spaceship landed on their world. It had to be very similar to the situation I’m in this exact moment: me walking up in front, terrorized by what I’ll find and be forced to face, followed for my own protection by half a dozen, weary, heavily-armed guards. The Soul in the midst of my audience is clearly the difference here, the only one who actually gives me hope instead of fright. 

Walking the same corridors I walked by hours ago under April’s control, not knowing if she’ll pop out unannounced at any given time, is harder than I’d expected, even when this is only the pretrial to the real task. I’m shivering all over and we’re walking in in blind. Didn’t want to see the exact spots and the blood of those I injured--the relief I got when I stopped by the dorms to make sure Jamie, Jeoffrey and Heath were alright has vanished too quickly. 

I freeze the second I glimpse natural light in front of me and I look over my shoulder. I looked forward to some comfort and reassurance, but seeing Kyle, Jeb, Sharon, Maggie, Aaron, all armed in case they need protection from me, which a few days ago would be just unthinkable, does the opposite. Even with Ian, Denny and, much to my dismay, Jamie’s presence there, nodding at me. 

Trying to control the shiver in my hands, I lean against the caves walls--I refused Ian’s help for a crutch, not wanting him so close to me, just in case something happens--and head forwards, attempting to look courageous to my family behind me. About two minutes later I step into the sunlight, into the outside. I stop at the same place I stabbed myself last night, the blood tainting the rocks darker at my feet. Few feet back, my family and guardians are still standing under the caves’ shade, all tense. I stare into the landscape, the sandy dessert, the rocky mountains, the flat and endless road, waiting. 

_:-Come on, April. This is what you wanted. I’m giving it to you on a silver platter. Come out and take it, come on.-:_

It was a long shot, but still, I’m disappointed to see my plea fail. I don’t budge for a minute or two, trying to coax her out--and quite frankly, catching my breath after the infinitesimal exercise. At some point I have to give up to the truth--and turn around, everyone tensing as a natural reaction. 

“Still nothing. I think I’m going for a walk.” 

“OK,” accepts Ian wearily, only because he knows there’s no talking me out of it. 

“Stay close,” warns Jeb. 

“Be careful,” Doc adds, another one of my strongest opponents--my injuries could reopen. 

“Will be,” I promise weakly. 

I try to stick to my word and mind my injuries, that hurt me like hell despite the No-Pain Doc gave me before leaving the dorms, but we’re on a rocky mountain nevertheless; even if it is only to keep my balance, bending to lean on a rock, I can’t keep at bay all the injuries. 

“You OK, Wanda?” Ian asks me every few minutes, because I’m the only one in the whole group who’s panting from such a small excursion. 

“Just a little bit more,” I beg every time, knowing he won’t take me back against my will either. Whether it is to convince me or Ian, I can’t tell; I just know I don’t want to go back to the caves empty-handed. This is our last chance--and so my please at April increase the tempo by the minute. 

_:-Goddammit, April, if you ever come back I’ll kill you again! With all the havoc you’ve caused to manage this, at least you could show some interest in it!-:_

My tiredness reflects on my movements: when I hold onto a rock with my right hand to follow my path, it slips and I almost meet face-first with the ground--and a fifteen-member audience are present to see my accident. 

“Wanda! Are you alright?!” shrieks Ian, who I hear stepping closer. 

“Yes, everything’s fine! Stay back!!” I order, though yelling doesn’t do well with my ribs. At this point, I wouldn’t mind Ian calling it quits and taking me back inside; I don’t even think I’d oppose much if he carried me back. 

I stand with some difficulties, coughing. I lean back on the rock, bending over my knees, hoping I don’t spit out blood, which will mean the end of this experiment. For a minute or two I just stay motionless, catching my breath. Then I signal an ‘OK’ to my family and turn around, giving this stupid idea one last shot. I take one small, careful, undecided step forwards. . .

Next thing I know, I’m dashing off down the path, at a speed I never would have considered even if I was in the right mind and physical condition. 

“I’m free!!” April shouts through my lips. 

:-April! You’re back! Now you can rot in Hell--and stop right now!-: 

_:-Who’s going to stop me? You don’t have that scalpel on your hand,-:_ she dares. 

:-You are not free, you idiot!-: 

Right when I think those words, someone tackles us from behind, grabbing both our legs, though said person is kind enough to throw us to one side, on him, so we don’t hit our head nor have any injuries from the fall. 

_:-NO! You tricked me! You’re as bad a species as I always thought you were!-:_

“I’m sorry, Wanda--you alright?” asks Kyle, genuine concern in his hoarse voice, as he holds me down on the floor as carefully as he can while not letting me run away again. 

I can’t answer neither one of those conversations; my chest hurts too much because of the running, the falls and the panting. The injuries are open for sure. 

While I assess every spot in my body that aches, the rest of the family catches up with us and surround Kyle and me, waiting for some kind of signal, uncertain of how to proceed. 

“Wanda?”

“How’re you?” 

“What was that?” 

“April,” I only sigh, barely audible. 

“You mean--she’s back? You got her?” asks Ian in surprise--never thought this experiment would succeed, apart from hurting me further. 

“Yes, and I don’t think she’s going anywhere this time,” I scowl. 

_:-You can bet I’m not.-:_

“Afraid I won’t be that lucky twice in a row,” I try to chuckle, but it hurts too much and so I set my mind straight before I pass out. “Please tie me up or do whatever you have to and take me inside. I need my bed.” 

The last plea sounds so desperate that a couple of men chuckle under their breath, though before they get told off by either me, Jeb or Doc, they set in motion. They must notice how tired and out of it I am, ‘cause no-one even suggests using the ropes. Instead, amongst three men, that’s how much I weight, pull me up and carry me on their shoulders. I barely register anything of such a bizarre journey; the only thing that I do remember is Jamie holding my hand tightly all the way back to the caves. 

Now that I’m too beat for April to succeed in getting free through her struggles, she just chooses to torture me mentally, as if I hadn’t suffered enough already. They take me back to my dorm and lay me on my bed very carefully, as I couldn’t stop the moans leaving my mouth all the way in. Now that my exterior pain is lower, I can focus on April. 

:-QUIET!-: I beg of her. :-Just shut up. I don’t care what you think of us or what you want to do to each and everyone of us when you regain control. Just access my memories and see that we are actually doing something to help you; and that we’ve tried everything we could come up with to bring you back from wherever you went. So you do that and let me rest.-: 

Maybe she does settle down or she doesn’t, or maybe it’s Doc who sedates me again, but due to the pain, the relief--and also stress--of having April back, I fall asleep rather quickly, without answering the questions my family’s been throwing at me since I’ve been put back on the bed. 

For some reason I’d expected a rude, sudden, painful, jolt awake, but for once with April inside of me, it’s peaceful. I’ll even say more: I’m, we’re, all alone in the room. Someone even convinced Ian to leave my bed, maybe to take care of some basic needs such as eating or taking a shower. His presence wouldn’t have been a burden but, it releases me of a stress factor. Right now, I’ll take everything I can. 

_:-How was your nap?-:_

:-Last time you asked me that, things were about to go to Hell, so refrain from talking to me altogether for the time being,-: I scowl. I’m entitled to be weary and angry at her--no one would blame me. 

_:-Man, I forgot how nice you are. Glad you got me back,-:_ she scowls. 

:-Well, I am glad that you didn’t die, but there’s a lot you have to apologize for--and I don’t think I can truly forgive you any of that,-: I say, cards on the table from the start, to let her know where we stand. 

_:-I know. That’s why I won’t be asking for forgiveness. I’ll apologize all my life, but I won’t ever expect any of you to forgive me.-:_

I freeze--I haven’t seen this side of April in, well, never, truly. But I don’t let her deceit me, not again. My family depends on it, I can’t fail them again. She’s not going to hurt anyone else because of me, going through me. 

_:-I’m not pretending this time, Wanderer, I swear. I know I can’t prove it to you, but I’m truly sorry, and I’ll abide by whatever you decide to do.-:_

:-Why don’t you shut up for now?-: I demand a bit irritated, this change in her disposition too radical for me. 

She does so immediately, something I didn’t think she could do, obey a direct order--proving her change of mind might be honest, the most remote of possibilities. 

:-Why didn’t you talk to me before?-: 

_:-You have to understand me, I didn’t--couldn’t--trust you. Your species has almost literally, wiped out mine over the years. It’s tough to believe someone you’ve only seen as the enemy for years.-:_

:-It was the same for me too, you know. I could have helped you throughout this journey, instead of leaving you in this condition,-: I let her know, trying my best not to sound too condescending, referring the stab wounds on her chest. 

_:-That’s quite alright. Serves me right for not listening,-:_ she chuckles, a whole-hearted laugh I didn’t think I’d ever hear coming from her. She only remembers my words a couple seconds later and grasps what I was talking about. _:-Wait. Leaving me? You don't mean. . .-:_

:-Some of my friends are out looking for a new Host as we speak,-: I explain. :-Can’t tell you how long it’ll take, but you are getting your body back.-: 

_:-For real?-:_

:-I promised you I would.-: 

_:-Yeah, but, like I said, I didn’t trust your word,-:_ she says, almost apologetically. 

:-Well, now you can.-: 

She takes a few seconds to ponder the new situation. 

_:-Thank you, Wanderer,-:_ she says finally. 

:-You’re most welcome, April. Hope we can become better friends over time--‘cause you still have a very long life to live, you see.-: 

_:-I wouldn’t if it wasn’t for you.-:_

:-Please, you’ve already thanked me, no need to drag this,-: I beg, a little bit embarrassed. I still don’t cope well with praising. 

“Wanda?” somebody calls out all of a sudden, frightening me--hadn’t heard anyone stepping into the room, although I might have been too focused with April’s conversation and our asking forgiveness and coming to terms, finally. 

“You awake?” 

“Doc, yes, I am.” 

“And--how are you feeling?”

I can’t help but smile upon his weary tone--it’s normal to fear my wake, these days. 

“Better than I feared,” I confess. 

“Is she--” 

“April’s here alright, not going anywhere. She thanks you for your work--we can barely feel our injuries.” 

Doc smiles appreciatively, but he and I know that I made up half of April’s words, just for his behalf: the wounds are still painful, after the exercise outside. 

“You seem to do much better,” he remarks, calmer now. 

“I really am. We’ve come to terms, I guess.” 

“She’s not going full crazy attacking us again? Can we untie you?” 

:-Can they?-: I ask wearily. 

_:-Go ahead. I’m not moving either way.-:_

“Please do, Doc,” I beg finally. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice; releasing me is liberating for one and all. Doc grabs some lotion he’d left close by and applies it carefully, very gentle, on my wrists, till he notices my intentions of leaving the bed. 

“Take it easy,” he recommends. “You’ve been lying for too long. Slowly.” 

Following his commands and with a little bit of help, I stand to a sitting position and then turn so my legs hang from the bed. In that position I take a moment, stretching my arms and legs, specially my wrists and ankles, but also my neck and waist. I think the last time I felt this injured was when Kyle attacked me so long ago; I could have spent the rest of my existence without feeling like that ever again. 

Doc stands before me, ready to catch me shall I fall or show any other sign of weakness. But the moment I see a tray of food resting on one of the beds I forget about anything else altogether; hunger wins. I push away his hands and stand, the abruptness of my gesture shocking Doc, till he sees where my eyes are locked at. 

“That’s probably cold already,” he says, apologetic voice. “I could send someone over to the kitchens--” 

“Don’t worry,” I reply, dashing forward the bedroom, “I’m too hungry to notice.” 

What was supposed to come out as a joke and make him relax, only manages to make him more anxious and possibly, mad at me. I see a deep wrinkle between his eyes as he helps me get the tray of food, half-limping across the hospital--that’s how weak I am at the moment. 

“Maybe this is no longer necessary, what’d you say?” he suggests, signaling for the IV. I gladly accept, still not liking needles pierced into my skin--he remembers and chuckles softly as he pulls it out carefully, without really me noticing anything. Even so, thinking about it is enough to make me sick and I need to stop eating for a second or two. Doc leans forward to be eye-level with me, sending me an encouraging smile till I can bring myself to eat again. 

I’m still in the midst of my late-time dinner when there’s a couple nocks and Doc opens the door for Ian, Denny and Jeb to step into the room. The first man sits down with me, offering a canteen, while the rest sit on Ian’s bed, at my signal, giving me time to finish eating. Even so, I swallow the rest of my meal in a few more bites--and Denny takes the tray away. 

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” asks Jeb. 

I take a few more drinks of water before answering. “D’you think we can go out and meet the others? We were on our way to a re-supplying mission, after all,” I say weekly, already knowing what the answer’s going to be. 

“Let’s take it easy, Wanda,” stops Doc, caressing my good shoulder. 

“If you’re up to it, how ‘bout a tour ‘round the place?” suggests Jeb. 

April doesn’t show out loud her interest around that idea, she doesn’t dare to do so, but I can sense that she wants to. So I accept on her behalf. She’ll enjoy it, as usual, like every newcomer that gets the tour around the caves. 

That’d be the normal case, if she were--I were--an usual guest in our home. But today, what with the weary and suspicious looks from our family members, and the overreactions from one and all as soon as we step into the common rooms, still fearing us--and I don’t like getting back to that time, I hate it so much that I almost ask to go back to the safety of my room, or dare to snap at them, remarking that I’m still the same Soul they knew two days ago, but I let it go in the end. Ian, Jeb and Doc surrounding me only increases the tension--feels like falling down to those days when they were my guards. Even Jamie joins us, holding a hand to my arm through it all. 

Jeb’s non-stopping babble helps me forget about it, Ian’s arms half-supporting me on my walk gives me strength throughout the tour, and even April’s casual oblivion to our family’s reaction, too caught up with everything that Jeb points out, helps me survive the tour. Even so, I try to focus on Jeb’s babble and what he shows us; I know April wants to listen. 

“So we’re back to square zero, aren’t we?” I whisper to Ian after we leave the main room and the threatening gazes on my neck vanish. I’ve also realized I’ve completely lost track of time passing; there’s light outside already. 

“No,” he promises, his voice so certain of it. “Just give them a couple days, but no one hates you, Wanda. They just got scared.” 

“Because of me,” I remark, to be interjected by Jeb. 

“They’re idiots,” he scowls, couple feet in front of us. 

:-Don’t worry. No one’s going to hurt you,-: I promise April, even if I’m not so sure myself, but I knew she had to hear the words. :-It’s just, humans are resentful, you know that. And please don’t take it personally.-: 

Maybe I spoke too soon, I realize as my worst fears appear to me when we get to the fields. April doesn’t get the chance to admire the biggest attraction of the place, the mirrors dynamic Jeb’s so incredibly proud of, and he doesn’t get the praise he so gallantly expected. As soon as we step out in the fields, my eyes instantly fall down to the four men and three women--Travis, Sharon, John, Wes, Ruth, Ann and Ried--waiting for us at the east side of the fields, right in the middle of our path, all their faces sullen, half-hidden in the darkness. I see Denny tensing by the corner of my eye, my exact reaction, but no-one else reacts in any way, following our trip in a too-forced ease. 

But at some point we’re forced to stop due to lack of space--they haven’t budged. Now that I’m closer, even if I know they’re part of our family, I’m even more intimidated by the six people group. I wish I could silently make Jamie leave the fields; at least he wouldn’t be in danger. And I know that he might be--Ian has stepped forward to be in a defensive pose in front of me, leaving Doc and Jamie to support me, and Denny stands behind me, closing ranks. Jeb stays in front, his talking stopped, though now I wish more than ever that his relaxing talk. 

“Morning,” he greets almost cordially. “You want to join in our little tour?”

“Not really,” scowls Travis, looking straight at me--at April, really. 

“Then get to work,” orders Jeb simply, expecting no answer from them. “Is lunch ready?” 

“We are here to work, Jeb.” 

“Fields don’t need any more hands,” he scowls. “Go do something useful.” 

His crafted innocence barely believable, even for me, is almost successful. But even I know better--some things you learn by spending so much time with a human family. 

“Is it safe?” demands Ruth, eyeing me. “Can she be up and down the place?” 

“Hope this is concern for her injuries, guys, and nothing else,” Jeb warns cautiously. “And as you can see, she’s doing much better, thanks for asking.” 

“Shouldn’t she be tied up?” presses John. 

Each of those questions, showing the undeniable fear they feel towards me, gives me worse goosebumps all over my body. I have a hard time breathing, the shivering hurting my ribs. There’s no way I can fend for myself here. 

_:-Forgot how nice and welcoming humans were,-: _scowls April.__

__:-Welcome back to your world.-: Bet she’s wishing to live in an all-Soul community again._ _

__“Can’t you see I’m right here? If you want to ask something about me, address me,” I snap, my voice breaking at the end proving that I’m not as brave nor confident as I want to pretend._ _

__“Fine,” accepts Ried. “Can we take you back to your dorm and restrain you there for the time being?”_ _

__“You will not do anything of that sort,” forbids Doc rudely, shattering in one sentence the fragile, falsely polite conversation._ _

__“She’s dangerous!” exploded Ann._ _

__“No, she’s not! She’s Wanda!” replies Ian, without budging from before me._ _

__“Tell that to Jeff and Heath. Have you seen them around here, honey? They still can’t leave their dorms,” Wes reports to me._ _

__At this, Doc steps forward, to be at my same level. “That’s only because I sedated them so they could rest,” he says, though I know his words are meant to soothe me, “because your stunt wouldn’t let them.”_ _

__“Stunt?” I repeat, although being aware I shouldn’t be distracted. Apart from the situation we’re in right now, what else has happened in the caves while I was out of it? I’m certain that somehow I was the reason behind it, whatever it was._ _

__“It’s OK, don’t worry,” Ian whispers, without looking at me, though I understand he doesn’t want to get off track and that he’ll tell me afterwards. For now, it seems there’s another bomb to disarm._ _

__“We wouldn’t have if she hadn’t gone crazy,” Sharon justifies, putting me on the spotlight, once more. April is keeping as silent as she can, almost frozen inside of me, regretting the minute she showed any interest in seeing our place._ _

__“Always the excuse with you,” sighs Jeb, almost tired. “I’ll give you exactly one more chance to go your way and let you live.”_ _

__“Not until we get our assurance.”_ _

__“That’s why you’re here?” I explode, stepping around Ian so I can face them for myself. “You want to know if I could kill you? Why not start the experiment now? Come on--just try to get me on edge.”_ _

__Ian pushes me backwards towards Jamie and Denny rests a hand on my shoulder, to stop me--this is not how a Soul should act, no matter what they’re going through or have suffered. I take a breath while Jeb proceeds in my name._ _

__“Go away, guys. Don’t make me get the rifle again.”_ _

__“That won’t be necessary,” replies John. “Great, then,” approves Jeb.__

____

__

__

His good mood vanishes when Sharon kneels on the fields, amongst the corn, and stands carrying the rifle between her hands. I gasp and try to get away, but I can’t move a single muscle. Ian holds me steady by the arms so I don’t drop to the ground--I feel, but can’t see, the hands of Doc and Denny as well--as I lean against Jamie.

__

__

__

__

__

“Run, Jamie,” I order him. “Go.” He doesn’t listen to me, frozen at the spot, and for some seconds I wish I was strong enough to push him away from here. I don’t want him anywhere near the rifle, if it isn’t at Jeb’s hands.

__

__

__

“Put that down! Now!” Doc shrieks, instinctively stepping forward to stand in front of me. 

__

__

__

“Sharon, you might be my niece, but I won’t hesitate to hurt you if I have to,” warns Jeb slowly, very low, proving it’s not an empty threat. 

__

__

__

“Calm down,” begs Sharon, although such an order is impossible what with her holding a gun at us. “I’m not going to use it--only to convince Wanda to go back to the dorms.” 

__

__“Okay,” I accept immediately, raising both arms._  
_

__

__No-one lets me to take a step backwards._ _

__

__“Forget it,” scowls Jeb, shattering my weak attempt at peace. “Not going to happen.”_ _

__

__“What’re you going to do? Threaten her and all of us all the way back, through the main room?” demands Ian._ _

__

__“We hope that won’t be the case,” replies Travis. “You’ll cooperate, right, Wanda?”_ _

__

__“Yes, I will,” I promise, but once again, I don’t know why I bothered--no one listens to reason nor allows me to leave the fields, towards the rooms. Jeb, per usual, is the one who’s doing exactly the opposite of what we should be doing at this moment._ _

__

__“Jeb,” warns Sharon, pointing the rifle at him. Because the man is slowly walking forwards, towards their group, directly in front of the gun. “Watch it.”_ _

__

__“Hey, Jeb--” Ian tries to stop him._ _

__

__The old man doesn’t listen to anybody and keeps walking towards the woman and the weapon, fearless, to a point where Sharon could almost pierce him through the heart with the rifle. Without breaking eye contact with her, Jeb grabs the barrel and in a swift movement takes the weapon, pushing Sharon, who falls to the ground. As John, the closest to Sharon, tries to get a hold back to the weapon, Jeb uses it to kick John on the stomach, which also sends him on the ground, by Sharon’s side._ _

__

__“JEB!” everyone present shrieks, maybe except Ian, some kneeling by the two people down._ _

__

__“They’re alright,” scowls Jeb, spitting on the ground. “And you won’t fool me, Sharon--this gun hasn’t been loaded for months. I doubt you could find the cartridges in the mess of my room. Now, is there anything else you’d like to say?”_ _

__

__He leans casually against the wall, as if the last argument hadn’t happened, the rifle resting on his shoulder, the way I’ll always remember him carrying it since the first day I arrived to the caves._ _

__

__“Good,” he approves upon the stunned silence from one and all. “Get out of my sight. And no more attempts to coax Wanda into anything; I could find the cartridges, was I forced to,” he warns as the six of them file away of the fields, keeping their heads down to avoid making eye contact with anyone, most specially, me. They didn’t like the outcome of the conversation, that’s for sure--but the old man, as was to be expected of him, couldn’t care less._ _

__

__“Don’t fret, Wanda, darling. And you neither, April,” he begs, his voice sweet and caring now, opposite to what we’d heard from him till this moment. “You’re both safe.”_ _

__

__“That, you are,” promises Ian, caressing my cheek._ _

__

__“As long as we’re close to you and your rifle,” I scowl._ _

__

__I can’t take this anymore and luckily, Ian notices: he grabs me by the shoulders and helps me sit down on a rock instead of collapsing against the ground, which wouldn’t help one bit with my injuries, risking re-opening them once more._ _

__

__“Now, now, Wanda, it’s alright,” exclaims Jeb, stepping away from the wall to give me some space, as Ian, Jamie, Doc and Denny kneel before me, to check my well-being._ _

__

__“Can’t you see what I’ve done? _Again?_ ” I explode. “Making you all fight each other. What good do I bring to this community, Jeb?” _ _

__

__“You’ve changed our lives a hundred times for the better, Wanda,” Ian reminds me. “This wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for you,” he says, looking up at Denny, a Soul living in harmony and in peace in the midst of a human family._ _

__

__“A little bit of confrontation’s not necessarily a bad thing, honey,” says Jeb. “Families fight all the time.”_ _

__

__“Not over a Soul who doesn’t belong to your species, much less your family!”_ _

__

__Such a statement gets everyone speechless, even April in my head, who was hyperventilating--a sign that I’ve managed to hurt them, all over again. I’m acing it all today. Ian’s the only one who can speak up in the next few seconds, having had this argument too many times, too tired because of it._ _

__

__“Wanda,” he scowls, his eyes closed, trying not to yell at me. “I swear to God I will lose it if you ever bring that up again. You know the answer. You’re a part of this family as much as the next one.”__

__

____

__

_:-Even more so, if those six can’t accept you when there’s a minor setback, considering you’ve forgiven them for what they did to you,-:_ adds April, only trying to help. At a bad time, she notices soon enough. _:-Sorry. I’ll shut up for good.-:_

__

____

__

:-No, don’t--that’s OK. But--is that what you think?-: I ask. 

__

____

__

_:-Wanderer, even if I’m a human, I’d be a moron if after being inside your mind for so long I couldn’t see the kindness that fills your heart. If some can’t see it after all this time... Their loss. There’s nothing you should feel sorry or bad about.-:_

__

____

__

__I don’t know how, but April’s words help me more than the ones Ian’s spent months--years, now--telling me. Maybe because she’s seen first-hand what I’ve done and the darkness that, in all honesty, lies in my heart. And if she can understand and accept it, being a human..._ _

__

__“Jeb,” I call out, my eyes still shut, tired and aching. “I’ve decided what I want to do.”_ _

__

__He steps forward immediately. “Name it.”_ _

__

__“I’ll take the spare car and go meet Mel and the others. Of course, you can say no, but I’ll do it either way,” I add upon their stunned faces._ _

__


	10. Chapter 10

Jeb has said it a thousand times over: they can’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do. Only, up until today I hadn’t used the other end of the bargain: they can’t stop me from doing whatever it is I want to do. They hadn’t realized till now how much does that simple rule tie their hands when it comes down to me: they can’t forcefully make me stay when I’m set to leave the caves, with or without their permission. When I spoke, the only possible outcome I had in mind was Ian, and perhaps Denny and Jeb himself, taking me to the spare Jeep and driving me to wherever Mel and the others are. 

That’s what I thought--but it seems that today’s the day when Jeb breaks one of his golden, most precious rule. He takes off his hat and scratches his going bald temple, undecided. 

“No,” he settles after a full minute of deliberation, a decision that gets relief from Ian, Doc, Jamie and even Denny--everyone except from me. 

“Jeb--” 

“Wanda, honey, you cannot leave the caves.” 

“You are not keeping me here,” I say, trying to sound as convincing as Jeb himself. 

“I wouldn’t dare to do such thing,” he promises almost kindly, getting confused looks from one and all. It’s not always easy to follow his line of thinking. “I am letting you leave the caves, of course.” 

“Jeb,” scowl Ian and Doc at the same time, both to be interjected by a wave of Jeb’s hand. 

“I am letting you leave, on one condition,” Jeb proceeds. 

“Name it,” I accept immediately--knowing it won’t be something I can’t do. 

“You can take the spare car and go wherever you want to go, for as long as you want to, if you’re able to make it to the parking lot all by yourself.” 

“JEB!” shrieks Ian, standing to face the old man. He knows I’m crazy enough to attempt such a test, even though it would only lead to me passing out at best, reopening my injuries at worst. 

The old man doesn’t answer to any of the reprimands he gets from Ian or Doc, whereas Jamie and Denny stand impassive due to the shock--I still haven’t uttered a single word since the suggestion. I glare blankly at him, as I realize he’s played me beautifully, as usual. 

_:-You... Are not thinking about doing it, are you?-:_ April asks cautiously. 

I sigh and close my eyes. Right now, to be honest, I don’t think I can stand from this rock by myself, much less get to my dorm; it’s impossible for me to get to the parking lot, at the other side of the caves. 

:-I’m not suicidal,-: I reply, though I have to mend my words as April shows me the pictures of my suicide attempt a few hours ago. :-That was only to protect my family, I’ve told you. I’m not going to push this body more than it can bear only for my pride.-: 

Even if she didn’t want me to notice, I can sense her wave of relief. 

_:-Well, I’m sorry for not being Mariusz Pudzianowski-:_ she says, without the hint of remorse. 

:-I didn’t mean it like that,-: I scowl, fearing that this particular relationship returns to its first, horrible days. :-And I don’t know who that is.-: 

_:-He appeared on the Guinness World Records in 2007, before you invaded our lovely Planet. He was... Oh, never mind, forget it,-:_ she drops the subject without explaining anything, irritated for some reason because of my question. I drop it, not wanting another fight, as I rub my hands on my trousers to wipe the sweat off and then I do the same on my forehead. 

“Fine, Jeb, you win,” I sigh in the end, keeping my eyes shut so I don’t have to see him gloating. “Just help me get to my bed,” I whimper. 

With Ian, my wishes are without a doubt his commands; he’s the one to surround my shoulders with one of his arms to help me stand, giving me a few seconds to check my well-being and balance. I know that in different circumstances altogether, he would have carried me all the way back to the dorms--although in different circumstances I wouldn’t have stabbed myself on the chest--but this time he doesn’t, out of respect for April. He keeps close, one arm on my waist, considerate but without never trespassing the gentlemanly line. Which I regret deeply--I ache for his touch. Though I do my best not to let April in how much this situation hurts to all the family. 

“Jamie, come here,” I call out when I’m settled in my bed, seeing his tortured face. He advances, sitting on the floor, reaching a hand for me. “Listen, why don’t you tell me about that book we bought for you last time? Dover, was it?” 

“Augustus Dover,” he nods, excited again. We discovered this series a few missions back and have been bringing him the books one at a time in our raids; unfortunately, this time it seems he’s not going to get the new story. Doesn’t look disappointed, though; he’s too polite to let it show. “It was amazing, Wanda. You must read it too. It started off in New York, but he traveled all over the world--he visited the Tibet!” 

“That’s marvelous,” I praise, a warm smile on my lips. “Are there pictures?” 

“Unfortunately, no, there aren’t,” Jamie answers. “But Jeb’s got this atlas from back in the day and that’s close enough. I’ll go fetch it so you can take a look too,” he suggests, on his feet before I manage to say a single word. 

He runs past Ian, the only person who’s stayed behind in my room, despite inviting Jamie over was an indirect way of getting rid of my guards for the time being. We don’t say a word and the silence kills me, forcing me to avoid Ian’s face--but I still sense his eyes on me. Jamie bursting into the room with the book and the atlas he’d promised is a blessing, until Ian grabs the boy by the shoulder, quitting his excitement. 

“Hey, she needs to rest, OK?” he reminds Jamie, a bit colder than he’d deserve. “Don’t pester her unnecessarily long.” 

“Ian,” I reproach. “You don’t have to tell him that.” 

“Actually, I do,” replies the man, finally releasing Jamie, whose crestfallen attitude I regret and blame upon me immediately. 

“Come here,” I command Jamie, leaving him a spot on the bed, though he chooses the floor instead. He could never burden me, he’s my little brother. Although his babbling is precisely the reason why I invited him to my dorms, so I can forget about everything else altogether. 

“Check it out!” yells Jamie, once Ian leaves the room, opening the atlas for me to see it. 

And so, life returns to normal, or as normal as it can be, what with things still being a bit tense and weird. Sharon and the others don’t even look at me, however, which means they got a world-class scolding from Jeb and Ian while I was out of it, probably a severe threat too, so all in all, I’m left at peace by most of our family. Which is good, because I’ve still got Vero--Veronica’s her real name, as it turns out--to worry about. 

My injuries and Vero are the two main reasons why I’m only allowed, by Doc’s orders, to be in the sewing chores until I’m fully healed. I didn’t really complain when he suggested it: the alternative was to stay in bed all day, so it wasn’t even a choice. And sitting around all day with needles in my hands, resulting in new blisters on my fingers every night, is not so hard, even for me. 

“Crap,” yells Ian, two seats to my left. 

I barely look up from the piece of cloth I’m sewing. I already know what’s prompted Ian’s swearword, but I don’t tell him off this time, although Ian shouldn’t be saying stuff like that in front of Jamie, who’s sitting by my side. On the head table, Judy sighs deeply. 

“Ian, I swear to God, if you get blood on those trousers, you’re going to buy a new pair,” she threatens. “All by yourself, without even taking the van.” 

That’s an exaggerated punishment and we all know it--we’d never send a human by himself into town only to by a pair of jeans, much less without being provided of a weapon and a runaway car--but even so, Ian looks dumbfounded. 

“Sorry,” whispers the man, trying to hide the jeans. “It’s just the bloody needle--” 

“You scratched your fingers again?” demands Heath, another one who’s forcefully on sewing duty for the time being. “Don’t you know what a thimble works for?” 

“The thing is, I’m wearing the damned thing on my middle finger, so the rest are unprotected,” scowls Ian, raising his hand and flashing his injured fingers for all to see. 

“And we told you, you’re doing it wrong,” says Trudy. “You only have to push the needle with your middle finger, which won’t be injured as long as it’s protected by the thimble.” 

“Well, it’s impractical,” sentences Ian, jokingly sticking out his tongue to the woman. 

We all chuckle but then we all look down again on our works, hoping Ian will be able to fix whatever problem he faces next. It’s then when I realize I’ve been working throughout the conversation without paying much attention to what my hands were doing. Checking the pattern, I drop the cloth on the table. 

“I think I messed up,” I confess in a whisper, a bit desperate. Although it is true I didn’t know how to sew before I got to the caves, I don’t want to hear the work I’ve done up until now was useless. 

On my right, Trudy takes her eyes off her work to take a look at mine. Her examination doesn’t last for more than five seconds. 

“No, it’s alright,” she promises. “Just undo these two stitches and keep going.” 

“Okay, thanks.” 

I get to work immediately--every second I spend not working is a wasted second. Plus, it’s so hot that we constantly need new clothes around, and scarfs for the sun and summer dresses are never not appreciated. Few minutes in, I hear another scowl coming from my left, followed by several sighs and rolls of eyes. We don’t say a word this time, while Ian hurriedly tries to mend whatever he did wrong this time. Perhaps we should order him to leave sewing chores for something else altogether, before he messes the trousers up for real. 

_:-Don’t take me wrong, but maybe he shouldn’t be sewing? Seems he’s not crafted for the manual work,-:_ says Vero. 

Her words make me chuckle, which confirms her thought at the same time: the only reason why Ian is here today with us is me. If I’d been assigned on laundry duty he’d be there by my side. And he’d be sleeping next to me if Doc had ordered me to rest for a couple of days. Only problem is, he really shouldn’t be sewing. 

As I relax my neck and shoulders with a couple of stretching exercises, I realize most of the people around the table have their looks locked on me. It takes me a moment they are stunned by me chuckling out of the blue, indicating it’s something Vero said that set me off laughing. Upon me noticing them staring and Ian clearing his throat rudely, everyone gets back to work, me included. 

_:-Nice,-:_ approves Veronica. 

:-Can’t really blame them,-: I reply, sighing. :-Few days ago we couldn’t see eye to eye and we tried to kill each other. Now we’re laughing and almost enjoying our time together--the contradiction must be hard to understand for them too.-: 

Although I didn’t think it’d happen, a shiver runs down my spine upon remembering Vero and I less than hostile relationship at the beginning. I do well in hiding it; if anyone, specially Ian, had seen me, I’d be heading back to my dorms, whatever I’d say against it. 

_:-Guess that’s true,-:_ she sighs. _:-And I am enjoying my time with you, Wanderer.-:_

:-Likewise,-: I confess genuinely, a warm smile on my lips. 

_:-I only wish we weren’t bothering each other,-:_ she sighs. 

:-You aren’t,-: I promise her, though she and I both know it’s a white lie to make her feel a little bit better. :-Anyhow, it won’t be much longer now. And at least we’re not driving each other mad or puncturing our lungs again.-: 

_:-Good old times.-:_

I openly laugh out loud this time, a good-hearted laugh I haven’t uttered in days, and do my best to disregard the inquisitive looks all around me. But from the corner of my eye I can see Ian’s lips barely curving upwards, pleased to see me at ease and happy again, so I know everything’s alright. 

Might have thought that a little bit too early. All of a sudden we hear someone’s footsteps approaching the kitchens, running fast. Such an event means nothing good in these caves, specially these last few days, so we’ve all momentarily dropped our works and we’re staring at the kitchen’s entrance by the time Reid arrives and stops to catch his breath. 

“They’re back!” he announces joyfully. “They’re finally back, all safe and sound! Come on!" 

Those words finally do the trick: now we all forget about our sewing altogether--I can almost hear Ian’s blessing and his fingers singing in joy--and everyone stands from the table, headed for the exit to welcome home the excursionists. I move slower, collecting my needles, thimble and thread, so no-one barely notices me wasting time on purpose, guessing I’m going to be slower into getting to the caves’ entrance--Jamie, for one part, has jumped out of his seat and has already disappeared. Only Ian stays behind for me, holding a hand out to help me stand. 

I don’t take it, but I don’t stand either, breathing deeply, waiting for him to catch on. 

“Will you help me--”

“Whatever you want,” he promises, too fast, too early. 

“--Get to the hospital?” I finish my sentence, which leaves Ian speechless, a deep wrinkle between his eyebrows. 

“Are you hurt? D’you need Doc?” he demands immediately, dropping to the ground in an attempt to run a check on me. 

I push his hands away. “I’m not hurt, though I do need Doc.” 

“What for?” he presses, still knelt in front of me. 

“They brought cryotanks,” I inform Ian. 

He’s breathless for a couple of seconds, letting that information sink in. He knew a part of the mission was to get cryotanks, at least as many as Hosts they’d managed to capture, but he didn’t grasp how soon we’d be needing them. And although he doesn’t like the idea, judging by his squirt eyes, he doesn’t speak against it. 

_:-What does that mean? What’s happening? Wanderer?-:_ demands Veronica, having caught on Ian’s expressions. 

:-It’s time you get your wish,-: I answer. 

Ian helps me stand and, one arm under my shoulders, he allows me to support on him across the main room. Instead of choosing the tunnel that’ll lead us to the cave’s entrance, however, we turn right, headed for the hospital. We’ll find Doc soon enough--although the man’s not the only one who can perform a perfect extraction around here. That’s probably the reason why Ian decided not to argue with me: I could have asked literally anyone, including Jamie, to extract me from Veronica’s body, and most people would have complied. 

By the time we get to the hospital, the place is still empty. Most of the beds are ready to accommodate the many Hosts Jared and Mel managed to capture, but our family’s still unloading the trucks, taking good care of the supplies and the humans. For the first time, I must be the only one of my family who’s slacking off work--and I’ve dragged Ian into it. The only one thing that’s already there are the boxes with the medical supplies for Doc, including the cryotanks, brought in the first trip. How fortunate--although I was counting on it. Only now does Ian understand I’d planned it all, once more, well in advance: he releases me and kneels to grab one of the cryotanks, powers it on, spins the dial and waits, still on the floor, till the device’s light changes to purple. Checking they work, before we start the extraction. 

“Good,” I approve, sending my arms around Ian’s waist again, his other hand carrying the prepped cryotank. 

He carries me out towards one of the beds and gets me settled, making sure I’m laying comfortable, an unnecessary sheet over me. Then he steps backwards, conflicted between going away as not to witness this, or laying by my side. 

I reach out for his hand. 

“Hey. Are you going to be alright?” I ask. 

He sighs deeply before answering--a weak nod is as best an answer as he can manage for the time being. 

“It’s not the end of the world,” I remind him, my tone sweet and low. 

“Not for you,” he replies, his voice breaking mid-sentence. I squeeze his hand tighter, silently begging him not to start crying. He’ll set me off and then no-one will be able to make us stop, even when we know I’m not committing suicide this time. 

“D’you want to be the one to do it?” 

He shakes his head vigorously, certain this time. I thought it might help him. 

“It won’t hurt me one bit, Ian.” 

“Well, it’ll hurt _me_. Yeah, I’m playing the selfish card here--I’m entitled to, I think being your boyfriend gets me a free card,” he scowls upon seeing my dumbfounded expression. “You’re forcing me to be away from you again. I’ll miss you.” 

“Oh, Ian. . .” I don’t get to finish the sentence because I don’t have more words on me, but those two syllables were enough to set me off sobbing. He reaches a hand to wipe the tears off my cheeks, to be replaced by new ones immediately. We both need this; so this time, however embarrassing it is for me, I dare to ask. 

:-Would you mind if...?-: 

_:-Oh, just do what you must,-:_ scowls Veronica. _:-I’ll try to scoot back.-:_

I don’t even have time to thank her; as soon as I notice her fade away in the slightest--even if it was my imagination--my mind focuses only on the man standing by my bed, a man who cares so much about me that is crying his eyes out before the prospect of not being with me for the next few days. 

“Come here,” I order softly, pulling him so he has no other choice than to sit by my side, both hands on my waist in order not to injure me further. I don’t let him complain or mention my injuries, raising to meet his lips. 

We both know we’ll see each other again real soon. I’m not leaving this Planet, not this time, not the way I meant it on that occasion. I won’t be in danger and will spend however it takes safe and sound in a cryotank. Rationally, it makes absolutely no sense to feel any kind of rush, despair or anxiety. But this kiss is somehow very similar to the last time I kissed Ian before I thought I’d never see him again, one of our first real kisses, provided by Mel--Vero--stepping into some other place. Urgent, passionate, desperate. A thousand more adjectives I could find to describe the way we’re moaning, clutching into each other, not letting each other go even when we start getting out of breath. And when we are forced to separate, because for Pete’s sake I needed some air, Ian barely moves away from me, his nose against my cheek, one of his hands messing with my hair, his hot, erratic breath warming the side of my neck. 

“Start now,” I beg, barely fighting back the tears. “Please, Ian.” 

He needs a couple of seconds to understand what I’m saying. When his breathing’s even, he rests on his palms and knees, standing on all fours above me. 

“D’you want me to do it?” 

“Yes, please. Now. You’re perfectly able to do it. Doc will be here in no time. It’ll be alright.” 

I shut my eyes while he ponders--I can’t see him like this. In the end, I notice by the movement of his body how he nods in acceptance and very slowly, minding my injuries, gets out of the bed. I hear water running as he washes his hands consciously, as if praying for Doc to get here before he starts and stops him, and rummages Doc’s drawers and cupboards to get everything we need. 

_:-Wanderer, if you can’t handle this right now...-:_

:-This is what you deserve,-: I reply before she finishes that sentence with a lie. 

_:-I can wait just a few more days.-:_

:-No, you don’t have to. There’s no reason why I should still be inside your body. Enjoy your life.-: 

She doesn’t speak for the longest time--I hear Ian approaching and setting everything on a nearby table, take a very deep breath, and I mirror him. 

_:-Thank you. Truly,-:_ she says finally. 

Now it’s me who doesn’t find the words to answer that plea--‘cause it was nothing but. So I rather change the subject altogether, busying my mind with other stuff. 

:-Okay, listen up. It could take you a few hours to wake up, so take it easy. Introduce yourself again to the human family--and please go easy on them, remember you did try to murder a few of them. Though stay away from Sharon and the others, just in case. Also, finally being by yourself in your own mind might be a little confusing--talk to Mel about it, she’ll help. And you should know, some of your old memories might be irretrievable. I’m sorry. Doc will help you through it all.-: Though maybe she needn’t any of those advices, I wouldn’t be a proper Soul if I didn’t warn Vero about the dangers and challenges she’ll be facing when I’m gone in an almost unknon community and environment. 

Ian’s hands on my neck reminds me silently to turn my face the other way. Instead of giving me the No Pain, he reaches out a piece of cloth in front of my eyes and I understand. I nod at him and, hesitant at first, he presses the chloroform-soaked cloth against my mouth. Ian truly knows and understands me--we couldn’t have handled an extraction being the two of us still conscious. Finally, I inhale the sufficient amount to pass out, my last coherent thought a wish for everything to be fixed when I wake up in a new body.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter !

I’ve never overslept in my tenth life, not once. (Neither did I in any of my past existences, but on the other hand, none of those lives involved me having such schedules and timetables with College and other chores). Here in the caves, I usually wake up before the sun is completely up and go to the kitchens to prepare breakfast, or help doing so, if the ones in charge of the first meal are already up as well. Ian sleeps like a log and only one out of fifteen times does he notice I’ve woken up almost one hour earlier than him. 

That’s the reason why, when I notice the sun hot on my face, I realize I’ve overslept today. So I jump off the bed and stand, with an uncharacteristic ease coming from me--it’s as if there wasn’t that much distance between my bed and the floor today. 

As I expected, I’m all alone in my room, Ian’s unmade bed in front of me proving it cannot yet be lunch time, since he usually comes back to make his bed around midday. So that means every one else in the family is working at the moment. 

I get out of the dorms, without registering the fact that I had to bend over a bit to get through the door. The tunnels feel shorter today--maybe it’s just my eagerness to see my family, it feels like I’ve been out of it for months on end. I’m happy, I’m at ease, I’m thrilled, no worries occupying my mind today. Feels like I’m finally again in heaven. The only part missing in the equation is Ian. 

As I approach the main room, the rattle and distant noise I could hear intensifies, proving that most of my family members are slowly gathering at the dining room--so it’s late in the morning, everyone’s already quitting their chores as to start prepping lunch. Now that I think of it, I’m starving. 

Those first days I spent in the caves where my presence would be noticed within milliseconds and everyone would stop what they were doing are very distant, but the feeling of being intimidated and threatened comes back when every last one person present freezes upon seeing me on the end of the tunnel and stare back at me. I’m this close to turn around and head back to the dormitories--the only things stopping me are reminding myself that this is my family and that the look on their eyes isn’t exactly threatening. Just, weary and nervous. Why? 

There’s some motion behind the counter and my eyes immediately fall down towards that area--or maybe it was an unconscious move because it’s Jamie. He comes running towards me, but doesn’t hold my hand, or doesn’t allow me to hug him, although my heart aches for it. Plus, is it possible--? He can’t be smaller than I remember. I don’t think he’d fit that well within my arms. 

“Hello, Wanda,” he greets, not as jovial and cheerful as I’ve alway known him. “How’re you feeling?” 

I don’t have time to answer that question: more people are coming from one of the tunnels and somehow, even if the words are distorted by the distance and the cave walls, I clearly distinguish Ian’s voice, along five or six more people. 

Few seconds in, two groups arrive at the same time to the main room from two different tunnels. Ian, Doc, Mel and Jared reach the dining room and freeze too upon noticing the silence, tensing for some reason till they scan the room, looking for the source of mayhem. . . And find me and Jamie. 

They approach immediately, standing a couple feet from me--Jamie and Ian are the ones who’ve stopped closer. I frown at that. I’ve gotten better at reading human emotions in the eyes and faces of my family and so I can tell they’re scared, for some reason I can’t grasp. 

“Calm down, Wanderer,” Doc recommends me, low and sweet voice as not to frighten me. 

Noticing so manages the opposite: I start panicking. He’s never called me Wanderer, not since long after we’d come to terms with our situation and me being inside of Mel’s body. But, to be completely honest, I do feel like something’s a little off. I’m fine, or at least I was until a few seconds ago: there’s no other presence in my head, this Host’s healthy and uninjured--there’s no throbbing pain in my ribs every time I breathe--I’m not thirsty nor hungry. But there’s something different, I can tell, a tiny detail bugging me. 

In the meantime, while I try to solve the puzzle, Doc, Ian, Mel and Jared stand before me, not moving, almost holding their breaths, their composure on defensive mode, looking up at me, waiting for something from me, evaluating eyes. 

_Looking up at me_ , I repeat all of a sudden. Even when I was inside of Mel’s body, Ian and Doc were taller than me. But today it’s the reverse; I’m the tall one. 

“What--?” I try to ask, when my voice doesn’t correspond with what I’d expected. It’s low, hoarse, deep--that of a man’s. I look down on my hands and I sigh in defeat: yes, the Host they managed to capture whose conscience didn’t come back was a man. About 6,3 feet, I gather, judging by Ian’s height, a bit overweight but healthy overall, broad shoulders, strong hands, caucasian, in his late thirties, an itching stubble caused probably by the days he and I spent down with the extraction and waiting to see if the Host would wake. 

“Well, that’s a new, even coming from me,” I whisper, my voice too loud and deep to feel truly comfortable. I’m not complaining much, but it comes as a shock. 

Ian chuckles and seeing my reaction, he finally relaxes, which prompts the cold environment to loosen up finally. 

“Out of the ten Hosts we brought home, only him didn’t wake up,” explains Mel, as if apologizing. 

“That’s alright,” I say. “How’re the others?” 

“Healthy and very happy to be alive,” Doc reports, a smile of satisfaction on his lips. “Denny’s already taken a few of them home.” 

“The Hosts or the Souls?” I ask. Maybe they all assumed, naturally, he was talking about the humans, but I had to ask. 

“Both,” answers Doc, eyeing my reaction. 

Looking above his shoulder, Jared waves his head towards someone I can’t see, even if now I’m almost as tall as Jared. Three people I don’t recognize leave the main group in the dining room--where the activities and chores have resumed, in order not to burn today’s lunch--joined by a fourth female I do recognize. 

“Vero!” I exclaim. My too powerful voice echoes against the walls, but I don’t care as I step forwards, forcing Jared, Mel and Ian out of my way, to greet the woman in my arms, without wondering if this gesture would be uncomfortable now that I’m in a male body. “How’re you doing? Are you alright?” 

“I’m on the mends of a full recovery, thank you,” she says politely after accepting the hug. 

Remembering our history all of a sudden, I look down on her stomach and her chest. I can’t see the injuries nor the bandages, but I do recall where I cut her with that scalpel. Seeing it now, it’s almost a miracle I didn’t kill her off. I feel immediately guilty all over again--she’s so tiny, I can’t believe I once dared to hurt her like I did. She doesn’t deserve a treatment like that. 

“I promise you, I’m fine,” she says, taking my chin so I don’t stare at the place where her injuries lie. 

“Glad to hear that,” I confess. 

“And these are Michael, Ross and Sally,” Jamie introduces the new humans, who all nod in turn, not angry enough to tell Jamie off for saying what they should have been able to say for themselves. 

“Nice to meet you, Wanderer,” they say. 

“Likewise,” I promise, shaking their hands in turn, still not used at being taller than the average man. “And please, call me Wanda.” 

They smile politely, nodding back at me. 

“So, how do you like it here in the caves?” I ask. 

“Oh, it’s great,” promises Ross, though I reckon they wouldn’t give me an honest answer if it weren’t, given that the people who saved them and live in these caves are standing right next to them. 

“It’s a bit weird not to be out in the open,” confesses Sally in her low voice, shy. 

“We’re adjusting just fine,” adds Michael, nodding at me. “Anyhow, it’s better than the life we had before, what with--” 

He doesn’t dare to finish the sentence as his eyes don’t leave my face. I smile at him, as if saying everything’s alright. I’m still inside a human’s body, but I can understand how they still hate the fact of a Soul occupying a host. Wrapping up the conversation, the new members of the family cross their arms, not entirely sure if they’re needed anymore. In the meantime, I’ve turned towards the rest of the group, a few questions still on my mind. 

“Denny’s taken the seven other humans to the Lake Henshaw, and a few of the Souls to the interplanetary airfield on his way there,” Jared explains while Ian and Jamie grab my arms, in case I need support or something. 

“Oh,” I say simply, because there aren’t really many other things I could have said. I would have liked to say goodbye to those Souls we forcefully extracted, try to explain things to them, even if they would never have understood. But I guess they waited an abnormally long time to put me inside this man’s body in order to make sure the human wouldn’t wake up--they couldn’t risk keeping the Souls here for that long, even if they had functioning cryotanks. They knew I wouldn’t have allowed it--or, Ian did. 

“It’s a bit unfair,” whines Jamie and I look down on him--if there’s anything bothering or mildly annoying him, I’m going to fix it. But the complain he utters is nothing that can actually be fixed, not for now. “Up to a few days ago I was taller than you were.” 

Everyone chuckles at the statement and at Jamie’s actually concerned voice, although Melanie does shove our little brother warmly, silently telling him this is not the appropriate time. I try to mend such a rude gesture. 

“Well, keep in mind that I’m still years younger than you are on this Earth,” I remind him, cupping his chin so he does look in my eye. “And that’s not something that can be changed, no matter how many Hosts I occupy, so there’s that.”

Such a statement does make him feel much better about himself, he even cracks a smile, truly content now, and that’s all that matters to me at the moment. Well, more ore less, the cynical me reminds me coldly as I stare at Ian. 

“You OK, Wanda?” asks the man, his eyebrows still frowned, as if waiting for me to start pouting, go into cardiac arrest or something. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” I promise, smiling at him. 

But two seconds after saying those words, I realize I blatantly lied at Ian. There is something I want that would make things finally nearly perfect. However, I can’t ask him that, not here and now, and so I bite my lower lip hard, trying to swallow back the request. 

“Wanda?” presses Ian, knowing I’m holding back something. “Spit it out,” he begs, reaching for my hand. 

I take a deep breath of air and look for an excuse, anything, but the one thing on my mind. 

“Let’s get the car,” I suggest in a hurry. “We need to send those other Souls away and I’m sure you couldn’t bring the usual amount of food and stuff for a full re-supplying mission,” I reason upon my urgency and their surprised stares. 

“No, we didn’t,” Jared confirms, slowly, whereas Jamie, Mel and Ian stay silent, without agreeing, nor dismissing either, my plan. Although my idea sounds legit, they can see there’s something else to it than just the benefits to our community. 

“You want to leave us already, Wanda?” asks a new voice--Jeb, whom I didn’t see coming. 

“Well, we need to,” I reply, sticking to my arguments now that I’ve found one that holds water. “We were low on food even before we all had to leave for the first time. And it’s been--How long has it been?” I ask instead of finishing my point, something I should have asked a while ago. 

“Two weeks,” Doc reports, sweet voice, an answer that gets a gasp from me. Hadn’t expected to be under for fourteen days, that’s for sure. “We wanted to do things right this time around. Would have waited longer if Ian hadn’t opposed it.” 

“We were stretching it,” replies the man, shrugging. I look at him, the nervousness I’ve been feeling since I first see him again intensifying. I can’t even begin to imagine what two weeks without having him around would feel like--I’m not quite certain I’d survive it. He’s incredibly strong. I need to find a moment to tell him that. 

“Anyhow, Wanda, darling, there’s no hurry,” chuckles Jeb. “You can leave tomorrow morning, still. We’ve got enough food not to starve for the time being.” 

“No,” I reply. “We’re leaving today. Now.” 

Maybe because they see in my eyes and notice in my tone a fierce they hadn’t heard from me before, maybe because they know they can’t actually fight me back this time, I don’t hear more arguments against my idea, though I’d feared them coming. 

“Fine,” grants Jeb, raising his voice to address the main room. I scan the dining room as well and stop breathing when my eyes fall upon Heath and Jeoffrey. I need to formally apologize to them before leaving, or remorse won’t let me do my job properly. I'm not allowed to have any kind of distractions, out there. 

“Listen up. Raid coming up this afternoon. Who’s up for it?” 

“I’m going,” say Jared and Ian at the same time, which I’d predicted, followed by Mel and Jamie--and we don’t even try to talk him out of it, we know he’s not staying behind either. It’ll be fine with all of us, no-one else volunteers for the job. 

“Okay, then. Let’s eat lunch first,” suggests Jeb. 

The three humans and Vero follow his suggestion as if it were an order--they’ve all gotten used to the martial law already--and head towards the tables, the old man behind them. The rest of my closest family lingers, Jamie being the one to utter the question in their heads. 

“So, is no-one in there with you?” 

“No. I’m all alone here.” 

Ian’s arm, which was still around my waist, tenses for a brief second before releasing me in an attempt to hide his reaction. But I caught it and mend my words, rolling my eyes. 

“On my mind,” I specify. I’m fully aware I’ve got a whole family here in the caves with me. “Come on, let’s eat, I’m starving.” 

As Jamie, Jared, Mel and Doc nod and head for the tables, Ian grabs my arm and prompts me to stay back. Seemingly there’s still something on his mind that he wants no-one else to hear about it. 

“What’s really going on, Wanda?” he demands. He’s not angry exactly, only a bit weary--he knows the raid, however necessary to our community, was just an excuse. I can’t hide it and I notice how I blush, something I wish I’d left behind Pet’s body. 

“I’m not entirely sure you want to hear it,” I whisper. 

“Then you don’t know me,” he replies simply. 

I sigh, unable not to grant him this, but blushing despite everything, something that probably doesn’t go well with this man’s face and composure. 

“I just. . . Felt like kissing you,” I say, a confession I wished to whisper, but turns out almost as if I yelled it. “But I understand it if you don’t want to kiss me.” 

I’d expected to die from embarrassment and I actually wish it was possible. On the other hand, after a couple seconds, Ian chuckles under his breath and without losing that crooked smile, he steps forward, invading my personal space. 

“Oh, is that it, huh?” he asks, mockingly, grabbing my chin before I can step away, or remind him of the many people in the main room that can see us. 

This time he’s the one who needs to stand on tiptoes in order to reach my lips--there are some benefits about being a man this time, I see--and kiss me cautiously and tenderly, as if it were our very first kiss. In a lot of senses, it does feel like we’d never kissed before. But at the same time, I understand that it doesn’t make a difference, kissing Ian as a woman or as a man: my feelings towards him remain unchanged, same as his feelings towards me. I really don’t know if that makes any sense--Ian’s lips on mine, his hands getting to intimate know my new body, make it really hard to focus on anything that deep and meaningful. 

He then pulls away, but keeps our bodies in touch, his arms around my waist, his eyes closed, still savoring the kiss. 

“Please, Wanda. I _always_ want to kiss you,” he whispers. 

That kiss followed by those words make me moan. In the voice of a man, it feels strange, but it’s exactly the reaction Ian would get from the “Pet” me or the “Mel” me, which prompts him to chuckle, finally opening his eyes and releasing me. Not being in Pet’s body once more comes as a disadvantage: now I can’t hide behind Ian’s figure and instead I receive all of my family’s dazzled and perhaps uncomfortable looks. I knew when I came to this Planet that homosexuality wasn’t as common and as accepted between humans as between Souls--I just hoped our family wouldn’t be that close-minded. But, since I’ve suffered their stubbornness first hand, I honestly don’t know what I expected. 

Ian holds my hand as we head for out spot by Mel and Jamie, who’ve already prepared our trays with food. By the corner of my eyes I see how Mel and Jared, along with many other members of the family, have a crooked smile on their lips and are snickering under their breaths--I’m glad Jamie was facing his back to us. I slap Melanie on the arm to make here, and everyone else, stop it--only to notice it maybe wasn’t that weak of a slap, since she gasps in complaint and her fork goes flying across the table. I still don’t control my strength. 

Half an hour later, the four of us are already in the van and Jared’s driving out of the caves, part of our family members waving us goodbye from the end of the grotto we call parking lot, with Ian, Mel and Jamie, with the occasional help of Jeoffrey, helping me do what I’d have done with Doc at the hospital had he convinced me to stay behind one more day: retrieve part of this Host and the former Soul occupant’s memories, to compose my own new life. What with their questions and their encouragements, I can get a simple grasp of their past existences: this human’s name was Matthew, he’s thirty-eight, lived in the city, worked as a hairdresser, and was captured by Mel and Jared as he was leaving a cinemas late at night. That’s more than enough for now, so after twenty minutes or so of struggling, I finally relax and sink into the seat, wiping the sweat off my forehead, as Ian takes my hand. 

“So everything’s in order,” he summarizes then, squeezing my hand. 

“Yes,” I nod, closing my eyes briefly, exhausted. “Seems we can get a bit of peace and quiet for the time being.” 

Ian chuckles by my side and I know what he’s thinking: he’d welcome a bit of peace and quiet. I smile too and get comfortable on the seat, leaning onto Ian, although with my new height, I can’t be the little spoon anymore. 

“Ten minutes for hour first stop,” Jared reports, looking at us through the rearview mirror, “if you’re up to it.” 

“Of course I am,” I promise, leaning forwards, although there’s still time. Me stretching out makes my feet bump into the box on the floor, containing the six Souls Denny couldn’t take with him on his first trip. In all honesty, these Souls are our priority today. “As a matter of fact, Jared, forget that. Let’s head straight for Tucson.” 

Everyone looks up to me in surprise mostly, a bit in fright because of my change of heart, even Jared, through the rearview mirror, whose worse fears cross his mind in a matter of seconds. I see his hands grabbing the wheel even tighter. 

“Any reason in particular?” he demands, weary. 

“The Souls,” I explain. “I want to find an interplanetary airfield as soon as possible. They deserve to start living their new lives.” 

No-one speaks against my reasons; whether they understand them or just accept them because it’s me, I don’t know. But either way, they nod and right then Jared misses the deviation for the small town we’d planned to start our mission at. 

“Tucson it is,” whispers Jared. 

My suggestion doesn’t exactly turn our worlds upside down; it only causes Mel and Jared exchanging the driver seat once to get to the city and make the interplanetary airfield our first stop, before any shops or supermarkets. Within one hour we cover three different supermarkets, van still half empty, so we head for another part of town for our fourth shopping spree. 

That’s when Mel decides to sit by my side--I notice again in surprise how small her well-developed body looks in comparison to mine. She leans against my shoulder, a smile on her lips, and talks in a whisper, knowing Ian in the driver’s seat, Jared and Jamie looking out the windows won’t mind us talking. 

“OK, Wanda. . . What is it?” 

“What?” I demand, my unintentional yell almost scaring all our companions and blowing our chances at a private conversation off. 

“What’s bugging you?” 

I don’t give her a straight answer and so she tries to guess it, saying out loud all the different reasons she thinks I could be mildly upset--most of them idiotic reasons, to be honest. I don’t mind shopping, it’s for our family’s benefit. I’ve got no particular reason as to hate Tucson city. I don’t feel guilty exactly about sending the Souls away--I’ve taken my time to bid goodbye, say sorry and thank them for their sacrifice and I appreciate Jamie, Ian, Mel and Jared’s gesture of doing the same. But when Mel brings up the “Veronica” subject, there’s something in my face that sets her suspicion and she knows, somehow, that is the thing worrying me. 

“Come on,” she prompts, casually bumping into my shoulders. “Talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about. Once I get a new Host, everything'll be better. Not that I don't like this body," I promise hurriedly, realizing I might have heard everyone's feelings while trivializing the risks they took on this mission to get another Host for me.

"Don't worry about it, we do know it's not ideal," dismisses Mel with a wave of her hand. "However, Wanda, I don't think _your_ thoughts and feelings will be vanished just like that because you change Hosts," she replies, bearing in mind not to use the word "skip" or "jump", knowing how much I still hate those. "You always said the sentiments and knowledge persisted into your Soul even when changing Planets and ecosystems."

I sigh in defeat; she knows me all too well. Like the sister she actually is.

She can read my mind because all of a sudden she's chuckling, hugging my shoulders. "Come on, Wanda, you know you can be completely honest with me. Why are you feeling down? Is it because you almost killed Vero?” 

“Well, yeah, when you put it like that, there’s no way I don’t feel guilty about it.” 

“But it’s not the main reason why you’re this happy?” she presses and I sigh in defeat. 

“It’s the reason why I did that,” I confess, sending a hand to my hair, to realize in a wave of sadness that my hair is too short to curl it with my fingers as I usually do. 

“You saved our family,” Mel frowns--I’ve explained a thousand times already why I tried to commit suicide. 

“Yeah, I know, but. . . Why did it come down to that?” I ask her, finally looking at Mel in the eye. 

“What’d you mean? You had no other choice, right?” 

“And that’s the problem,” I fall in despair, “I wasn’t strong enough to protect you. Even if it had happened within this body, I couldn’t have found another solution but killing myself to stop Vero. By loving you, the only choice I had was to kill myself for good.” 

Throughout my words, mixed in desperate sobs, Mel sends an arm across my shoulders, holding me tight.

“Wanda, what the heck are you talking about? You’re strong, incredibly so. Don’t you ever think otherwise, or I’ll kill you myself.” 

“No, I’m not, Melanie. If this ever happens again, I don’t know what I’ll do--I’m not strong enough to protect you all.”

“Hey, you did protect us! Don’t you see? No-one died! Those you injured are safe and sound!” 

“And what if I lose control again? It’s obvious I’m a danger to all of you if I stay.” 

She scoffs in despair and for a few very brief seconds, I fear if she could actually attempt to physically hurt me in such a small space as this van. 

“If this is another of your stunts to try to leave the caves, Wanda, I swear to God I’ll--” 

“Think it through,” I interject her. “You’re all far better off without me.” 

“And what about all the ways you’ve changed our lives for the better, Wanda? The dangers, if there are actually any, are minimal compared to the advantages of you staying with us! Can’t you see? All of a sudden we have proper clothes, better food, we can get out of the caves more often--” 

“Mel, I may have been the one to give you all that, but one wrong move from me and I may as well be the one to take it all from your hands,” I reply. 

“You won’t! I know that will never happen!” 

“How could you stop it? Were you able to stop Vero, for instance?” I demand, coldly. 

“We’d find a way!” she almost shouts, grabbing my hand till it hurts. “Always! But together, Wanda--don’t shut me out again!” 

I sigh upon those words. They’re not exactly helping. 

“I’m not as strong as you are, Mel,” I whisper, the realization hurting me, the confession leaving my lips shakily, weakly. 

That sentence outrages my sister--which isn’t the reaction I could have expected coming from her. She pushes my hand away and stares at me with hatred, almost, in her eyes, an addendum to the tears I hadn’t seen before. 

“Don’t say that,” she forbids, an actual threat in her voice now. 

“Just look at the facts!” I try to reason, albeit my desperate voice does make it hard to believe my words. “You could keep your biggest secrets from me for weeks. I couldn’t even keep the most important secret, the one thing that could keep our family safe, for more than a day. How--” 

“It’s not in your nature to be able to lie!” she replies. “It doesn’t come as easily as with us!” 

“And that’s where I put you all in danger!” 

I’ve finally done it--she grabs me by the arms and despite the fact that I’m bigger and probably stronger than she is at the moment, she forces me to stop talking by shaking me up violently, and to stare right into her eyes. 

“You’re such a moron, Wanda! Of course you’re strong, as strong as I am, maybe even stronger! It was you who opposed the Seeker right from the start, when you also hated me! It was you who walked days through that desert, almost dying, not me! It was you who stood up with all the torture and mistreatment and abuse you received by our family! You saw the worst kind of horror, the genocide of your own kind, and still found a way to forgive us and trust us again after that! You saved Jamie! And the Seeker! You almost committed suicide once again! You came back from all that and lived with that! Do I have to go on?!” 

“You can lower your voice,” I beg, since all three men are staring blankly at Mel, not knowing what in the world prompted her speech and anger. 

“I don’t give a damn!” she explodes. “Let the whole damn world hear me! Let those words, those incredible actions you did, really sink into that little head of yours, because I’m not done yet! And I won’t be done till you believe them, truly believe them, and don’t say something that stupid ever again in however many lives you might get to live!” 

“Okay, okay!” I exclaim, both my hands in the air to try to stop her. “I get it. Okay? Stop it now.” 

“Don’t say it just because that’s what I want to hear,” she threatens, pointing a finger at me angrily. 

“I’m not,” I promise, another blatant lie to my sister I’ll live to regret. “I’ll think about it. I just can’t give you an answer right now, right here.” 

“Oh, yes you can!” 

“Mel!” I yell, covering her mouth with my palm, big enough to cover half her face, to finally get her to shut up for real. “It’s been a lot lately. Can’t we take it step by step to normality?” 

She doesn’t say a word, which is an obvious negative answer, when all of a sudden I notice we’re not moving and, on the other hand, Jamie, Jared and even Ian at the driver’s seat are all staring at us. I look outside the window, fearing if they’ve stopped due to our show in the middle of the road, a move that’d get the attention of many Souls, when I see we’ve stopped at a shopping mall parking lot. 

“Maybe one of those steps can be going shopping?” suggests Ian, wearily, from the front seats. 

“On my way,” I accept, grabbing my jacket and my bag. 

“Hold on,” begs Jared, reaching a hand towards me, though he doesn’t touch me, much less grab by arm, for whatever reason. “Are you really OK?” 

I wait a few seconds to nod--I’m the first one who doesn’t want to screw this raid up. There've been enough missteps on the way. 

“See you in a little while. Don’t do anything stupid and don’t be noticed,” I bid farewell finally, without looking at Ian before shutting the door behind me. Had I done so, I maybe wouldn’t have found the strength to leave the van. 

That little while becomes half an hour, longer than I usually take for these missions, even considering the amount of clients at the supermarket--but I used the time wisely, buying a few things that weren’t actually compulsory, beyond the food and other basic supplies, but I felt like taking either way. It might help things get better. 

“What’s all this?” asks Mel when I hand her a bag not belonging to the supermarket. 

“Go ahead, take a look,” I allow her. 

Jamie pops his head from the seat in front of us; even Jared looks behind interested, and Ian stares through the rearview mirror, where he’s been forced to stay by Mel and Jared. I’d half expected to find him sitting at Mel’s place by now, by my side. 

Mel gasps as she hands Jamie the book I got, which gets the boy squeaking in delight. 

“The new Augustus Dover! Thank you so much, Wanda!” 

“You’re more than welcome,” I say, finally a genuine smile on my lips, seeing my brother’s surprise and excitement. He sinks into the seat and opens the book--and then right there, I know he’ll be out of it for a few hours at least, till he’s forced to leave the book because it’s dark out there or because it’s time we check-in to a motel. Maybe it was a mistake, it’ll be difficult to get that book off his hands now. But I just can’t deprive the boy of anything. 

“And a “The Beatles” CD?” asks Mel in surprise, getting the second item out of the bag, the fifth track record of the british band, if the clerk was right. 

I chuckle as I put the seatbelt on. 

“Ask Jeb about it, it’ll make him real happy,” I say. 

Up front, I hear Ian’s chuckle as well, but he’s not giving any more explanations than I. He’s probably not ready to confess in front of Mel and Jared that he sang for me--he’d never hear the end of it, even I know that and still want to make him suffer for it. 

Me putting the seatbelt somehow signifies me putting an end to my shopping list discussion, which does good with Jared’s mood. He’s been more focused on considering we’ve spent way too long here on the parking lot, when I’ve already put in the shopping bags. There’s still time to visit one, maybe two supermarkets more today, before we need to find a hotel to spend the night in. 

“Come on, people, time to go,” he orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought !


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